


Chaos, Imperium, Scientiae

by StardustGay



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Black Family, Black Hermione Granger, Dark Harry, Dark Hermione Granger, Dark Magic, Dark Ron Weasley, Harry and Tom compete to be King of Slytherin, Harry has his own inner circle, Harry is a Little Shit, M/M, Magically Powerful Harry Potter, Possessive Tom Riddle, Pureblood Culture, Pureblood Harry Potter, Pureblood Hermione Granger, Rituals, Slytherin Harry, Slytherin Hermione Granger, Slytherin Ron Weasley, Time Travel, Tom is infuriated and intrigued
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2018-11-14
Packaged: 2019-01-17 12:33:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 38,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12365883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StardustGay/pseuds/StardustGay
Summary: Based off of the Tumblr Prompt of Dark Trio mixed with the typical Tomarry Time Travel ClicheEven with every eye in the Wizarding World on them, Harry, Hermione, and Ron slip around Hogwarts unseen. Their wands thrum with hidden remnants of dark magic and their smiles are sharp and bloodthirsty when no ones watching. They are powerful, they are driven, and they are just a touch too apathetic to others pain.A mistranslated ritual sends them back in time, to where they would best succeed and flourish, and now Harry is building up his own inner circle and challenging Tom Riddle for the top spot in Slytherin. Rivaling groups threaten to split Slytherin apart as both leaders work towards a similar goal and catch the others interest.





	1. Chaos, Imperium, Scientiae

**Author's Note:**

> Latin stands for Chaos, Power, Knowledge. I honestly whipped up both the story idea and first chapter in a day so I hope it isn't too rushed or badly out together. Un-Beta'd and could probably use one. Give me honest critiques please, I do feel like this is a bit rushed and all over the place.

The Headmaster's office was cluttered with shiny objects and untouched books, cosy armchairs straight out of the Gryffindor common room. Harry, Hermione, and Ron sat stiff backed in such chairs, appearing at ease but with strained, bland smiles and hard eyes to those who cared to notice. Dumbledore, as he was quick to underestimate them, did not.

"Are you sure you three have nothing more to report to me?" Dumbledore asked, glasses slipping down his face and blue eyes peering into each of theirs. The golden trio continued smiling blandly, none of them avoiding his eyes and allowing him to slip inside their heads.

He looked almost displeased when he gleaned nothing more from the three, and dismissed them with the usual "If you need to talk my door is always open..you can trust me."

Harry stood first, and walked out of the Headmaster's office, Hermione and Ron close on his heels. The heavy door swung shut behind them and the strained smiles on their faces smoothed out, the in-sync trio ensuring no one was nearby before speaking.

"You can trust me," Ron mimicked, "I absolutely don't view you as little more than chess-pieces."

Hermione snorted, giving him a sideways look. "Careful Ron, you're sounding like a hypocrite."

"My manipulation is nothing like that bumbling idiots! I simply let people underestimate me and slip them little suggestions until I have them exactly where I want them. Manipulations more Harry's thing." He denied, looking indignant though the corners of his mouth quirk.

Harry glanced at them out of the corner of his eyes, twisting his head slightly to see where they obediently followed him. "Manipulation is an art to be respected. Dumbledore is not a fool for it, it's his penchant for child soldiers and turning a blind eye to abuse and mistreatment that make him deplorable. His quickness to demonize anything he disagrees with, his own hypocrisy and lack of morals...the list goes on. But not his manipulation, nor his grandfatherly facade. After all..we do the s-"

"Children! Is there a reason you are wandering the halls after dinner?" Proffessor Sprout asked, looking both stern and concerned as she stumbled across them. Immedietly all three changed. Hermione straightened, looking nervous and grasping her bag. Ron slouched, shoving his hands in his pockets and adapting a carefree expression. Harry blinked at her, looking apologetic and polite.

"Sorry Professor, the Headmaster called us into his office, something about discussing future career paths..?" Hermione answered, biting her lip.

"How odd, Heads of Houses are supposed to hold those meetings, and usually one at a time..." Professor Sprout pondered, brow furrowing but no suspicion was aimed at them. Her hands twist into her robes, eyes sweeping over them.

"You know the Headmaster, he likes to over look those he takes an interest in personally." Harry explained, and Professor Sprout nodded a few times.

"That must be it. Well, hurry back to your dorms. Curfew is soon." She agreed, before bustling off again, presumably towards the Hufflepuff dorms.

The three relaxed once more, and continue on. Once her footsteps had fadded into soft echos, they continued speaking.

"Have we everything for the ritual tonight?" Harry asked casually.

Ron brightened, a twinkle of madness in his eye. "The Chamber is set up mostly, and Hermione has a bag filled with anything else we need."

Hermione nodded. "Everything has been taken care of. We'll lounge in the Common Room with the others briefly, head up to bed, and slip back out when they're asleep. As usual."

"Ah, but this isn't out usual type of ritual. This one is much more fun."

"Mmm, fun but dangerous Harry."

"Don't be such a wet blanket Hermione, I know what I'm doing. This isn't my first olde ritual, not by a long shot." Ron laughed, knocking his shoulder with hers. She sent him a dark glare, and he was lucky that's all she did.

They were greeted in Gryffindor warmly, 'friends' of theirs ushering them to the sitting area and Ron quickly got ropped into a game of chess. Others tried to converse with Harry but he excused himself with the excuse of homework, sitting next to Hermione on a couch to do so. The fire roared warmly and the atmosphere was warm and comfortable, but none of the three were quick to forget the doubt, fear, and hatred these very people have had towards them in the past. So while they played nice, every smile hid sharp teeth and poisonous thoughts. Eventually, they were able to bashfully bow out to bed, where after a short exchange of glances they locked themselves behind their curtained beds and wait.

 

* * *

 

The Chamber of Secrets was dark and gloomy, dripping water echoing around them. They had cleaned it up since second year, fixed the flooding and set aside an area for Ron to practice rituals and make sacrifices. The ground was bloodstained by now, and saturated in dark magic. Hermione sniffed at it in distaste, not a stranger to blood but not a fan of the gory work Ron did down here.

A softly pulsing pentagram and runes were surrounded by flickering candles, distorting the teens features as they stood around it. There was no need for a sacrifice during this one due to the actual sacrifices they offered to the gods on a routine basis, but they were all freshly scrubbed and wearing flimsy black robes that swirled around their bodies and bare feet.

The candles reflected off Harry's glasses and illuminated the clustered freckles on Ron, glinted off their athame and the rings on Hermione's fingers.

Hermione walked slowely around the circle, burning herbs as Ron passed Harry the athame and kneeled. Harry twirled the blade around his hands, watching with glee as Ron started lowely chanting, Latin smooth and familiar on the ginger's tongue. Harry sliced his thumb deeply and waited as Hermione walked close to him.

He cradled her face with his unharmed hand and drew the rune for 'Knowledge' on her forehead, the runes for 'Change' and 'Success' on each cheek, and trailing his fingers down her dark skin he finished with a large rune for 'Magic' on her sternum. She smiled blissfully as his magic melded with hers and the runes softly glowed like the ones on the ground. He released her and she began pacing the circle again, smoke wafting from her herbs and clensing the space.

Harry moved over to kneel in front of Ron, his eyes opening to state into Harry's with a hazy, crazed look. The ring around his iris glowed and the black of his pupils bled into the blue of his eyes. Harry gave him a sinister smile and he echoed it, continuing to chant. Harry drew a crimson rune for 'Chaos' on his forehead, and proceeded to repeat the runes on Hermione's cheeks and sternum on Ron's pale skin. He paused to watch Ron's eyes flutter close and the quick intake of breath before standing and moving to his place. Hermione stopped pacing and they created a triangle.

Harry sliced his thumb to produce more blood and smears it into the runes for 'Life' and 'Death' on his forehead, drawing them close enough to merge. He repeats the runes for 'Change', 'Sucess', and 'Magic'. The magic around them swelled nd built, the smoke that had swirled around them from the herbs now whiping like a tornado around them, fast and almost sentient.

The magic spiked and then crashed with a resounding 'boom', building up in the center only to be expeled outwards. The three collapsed and their vision went black.

 

* * *

 

Many will wonder when the pretending and the lying and the illegal dark magic started. And honestly, it all stemmed back to Hermione's innocent thirst for knowledge. And her rapid obsession for the restricted section. She found she disliked being denied knowledge, and the thought there were things she wasn't allowed to know. So 11 year old Hermione started putting her nose where it wasn't supposed to be. She devoured the Restricted Section by third year, and wasn't satisfied.

She had taken both a liking and a curiousity to dark magic, untracable poisons, and incredibly illegal spells. It wasnt long until she was brewing things she shouldn't have, wandering down Knockturn Ally and into questionable stores for ingredients and more books. She was crafty and hid her tracks well, became an expert at dark options and violent spells. But most of all, she excelled in Legilimency and other magic that made people bend to her will. Whisper what she wanted to know in her ear and move like a puppet she held the strings to.

Ron and Harry never noticed Hermione as she started down her path , and Ron didn't have the thirst for knowledge to send him into questionable places. No, Ron was just as he appeared until Second Year, when the glistening sight of blood on the walls drew his eye and took his breath away. The dripping blood and nearly lifeless bodies unlocked an all consuming urge in him, not for knowledge and not for death. Not even necessarily for pain and torture. An un-namable urge he couldnt quite put his finger on.

He told Hermione about it in a dark corner, whispering to her about how his magic sings at the sight of blood, how it calls for something he doesn't know. She smile , not a kind smile he expected nor a scared smile he dreaded, and told him about blood magic. He must have an affinity for it she explained, and handed over one of her precious books. Ron handled it delicately and looked at it like it held the answers to his problems. It did.

Blood magic led to blood rituals which led to larger rituals. He discovered long forgot gods, ones that weren't as kind and good as God's of sun and harvest. He was 14 and feeling smothered by his family's shadow when he snuck off to the Chamber, still able to say basic words from listening to Harry though he couldn't understand any of it, and he made his first sacrifice. The heady magic left him trembling in ectasy when it was done, but he would learn that feeling was nothing compared to what I felt when he sacrificed to a incredibly old Chaos deity.

Ron's affinity with blood and chaos magic made him set apart from his Family, and the illegal practices let him soar higher than any broomstick. He was more peaceful and happy during the day, less prone to jealously and far more satisfied with life. But a swelling part of him longed for the things his gods represented. Pain, death, blood, chaos. His eyes were sharper, his grins toothier and edging on crazed. Hermione had to take him aside and build up his marks and walls to keep him out of the penetration eye of Dumbledore and the light.

Harry, well, he had always been a bit twisted. Had looser morals and a heavy mistrust in authority figures. He allowed the thirst for approval and affection guide him for the beginning, but the seductive magic pulsing from the diary awoke something within him. And Tom was so insightful, so helpful to put him on the right path. To tell him of the addicting nature of dark magic and how sweet someone would scream under a specific curse.

Tom was his mentor, whispered to him late at night about books he should read and spells he should try. About how Dumbledore was not who he seemed and the hidden strings that moved him like a puppet. Tom was a kindred soul, knew how Harry craved for control and power, needed to achieve great things and choose his own destiny. After all, Harry was so similar to Tom. Harry was raised like a pig for slaughter, molded to be someone he wasnt. But everyone assumes that abused children are pitiful and desperate for attention and affection. Dumbledore assumed he would be malable like snow. Abused children are cold, heavy chunks of ice shatered and chipped until it's twisted and sharp. Ice is not snow, and if you try to mold it into a snowman you will slice and rip and impale your hands.

Harry was so good at Defense against the Dark Arts. But he was far better at the Dark Arts themselves.

And the way the Golden Trio twined themselves together was easily seen to eachother. They were like bloody glass melded and woven until you couldn't see where they met. It wasnt long before all three were aware of the inclinations of the others. And by late fourth year they were The Golden Trio only in front of others. Alone, they showed their true colors. Most would label them Psychopaths, but they didn't quite like the term. They weren't inhuman, not incapable of love and kindness. They were like knives. To be handled with care and caution as they were just as able to harm as to help.

 

* * *

 

 

They awoke to screaming and explosions, air thick with smoke and the scent of death, heavy with magic all of them were far to familiar with. They opened their eyes to a battle, lying on hard ground covered in broken glass and shattered items. Harry pushed himself up, glass cutting into his hands, as he surveyed his surroundings. They should be here, he wasn't sure how this happened. Dead bodies covered the ground, slumped and crumpled in unnatural positions. Curses flashed overhead in bursts of color and the sound of more bodies hitting the ground echoed around them. Ron and Hermione were stirring as well, Hermione's gaze calculating and Ron's gleeful. They were hidden in a wrecked house, near broken windows that showed the incredible destruction around them. Sitting up, Harry noticed that the blood runes were gone from their bodies, and their ritual robes were replaced with stiff, old fashioned casual robes. He was slightly panicked, clutching the fabric and trying to figure out how they got here, wherever they were.

The sounds of battle outside were dying off before going silent completely, cracks of apparation sounding all across the destruction. Hermione stood, peering out the windows before turning to her friends.

"We must go, Aurors will be here soon and finding all of us unharmed and clustered together near the doorway isn't going to look good. We should look as if we hid, so down to the basement." She said helping Ron up, his legs trembling and unstable from the ritual. He hummed, pleasure etched into his face.

Harry stood and they both nearly carried him down the stairs, finding a store room where they dragged Ron into a concealed corner and crouched down unseen. Harry, quickly thinking, grabbed his wand and knocked Ron out.

"Harry!" Hermione shouted.

"If the Aurors find us, finding him drunk on ritual magic isn't going to look good. If he's unconscious he won't wake until after the magics out of his system hopefully." Harry explained. "We're lucky enough we all look like we've been attacked, so our story is that the attacking wizards burst in on us in the living room upstairs and hit Ron before we were able to escape and hide."

"Wonderful, but its going to be pretty damn suspicious funding the Boy Who Lived here during school anyway. Harry, we don't even know where we are let alone give an excuse to why we're here!" Hermione said, face screwed up.

Harry frowned. "Then what are we to do? None of us can apparate and from the light outside Id say someone's already noticed we're missing."

"..Hit me with a curse. If we've been cursed they're required by law to get us medical attention. That'll give me time to peek into people's minds and get us a story." She said after a moment of thought. She took a deep breath as Harry nodded jerkily, grabbing his wand.

Harry cast a torture spell on her, a lesser curse similar to Cruciatus. Hermione bit her tongue to keep from crying out as her body dropped to the ground and began to writh. He didn't leave her under it long, cutting off the curse. She breathed heavily, pushing herself up on shaking arms to cast a curse on him.

He felt like a thousand lightening bolts had hit him, the pain sudden and blinding, by over quickly. Both leaned against eachother, exhausted and shaking. Harry cast a bunch of harmless spells to hide the Dark magic, and Hermione followed suit. Both stiffened when heavy footfall came down the stairs, Harry peeking over the boxes that were hidden behind to see the flash of bright red robes. The Aurors.


	2. A Place For Us Here

The Aurors, a tall gangly young man and an older woman, rushed over to them when Harry called out weakly, looking panic and distraught.

"Are you alright? What's happened? How much have you seen?" The man asked rapidly, before being shoved out of the way by the woman. She took his face in her hands gently, and Harry failed to not flinch. She just made a soothing noise as she checked his eyes for signs of concussion or brain damage.

"Don't overwhelm them Hodge, they're just kids." The woman ordered sternly, before her eyes softened and she met his gaze. "It's alright, there's no danger left. Can you tell me your name?"

Harry hesitated, but Hermione cut in.

"My name is Hermione and this is my brother Hadrian, can you tell us what's going on?" She asked, confused and looking disorientated. Harry blinked at her response but the look in her eyes clearly told him she'd explain later.

The man, Hodge, moved to kneel over Ron's unconscious body, doing the standard procedure for such a situation.

"I'm Auror Marial, me and my partner are here with a majority of our Auror's. Are either of you hurt?" She asked, eyes scanning over them and obviously noticing the way they leaned against eachother and the twitching of their limbs.

"We've been hit with a few curses." Harry replied, as if trying to muster the energy. He looked desperately into her eyes, seeming panicked. "Where are out parents?"

She blanched, and looked away. "We must get you to St. Mungos, can you tell me who the person with you is?" She avoids, looking at Ron.

"That's Ron, a neighbor. He was hit with a stunner or something, we aren't sure. We fled when the fighting picked up." Hermione murmered, moving to clutch Harry's arm as if needing comfort. He wrapped an arm around her and she burrowed closer.

The Aurors nodded, grabbing one of their arms and the pull of apparation hit them both.

 

* * *

 

 

The panic and bustle for the next while blurred and distorted his memory, but Harry and Hermione are hurried into parallel hospital beds and fussed over for a long time. By the time they were left nearly alone, it's noon and Harry could feel a sense of _wrong wrong wrong_ itching under his skin. St. Mungos looked different, and none of the people around him are even faintly familiar. He was given a pain potion that's much weaker than usual and left a lingering aftertaste it shouldn't. Hermione met every eye she could and her face grew more troubled by the person.

Ron was immoble and still out cold on the bed on Hermione's other side, but should be up soon. When the last nurse left for lunch Harry was desperate for any information.

"What's going on?" He demanded, twisting on the steril white sheets beneath him.

"Ron must have mistranslated the ritual or something, because this isn't what should have happened. Harry, we didn't just move. We traveled back." Hermione said urgently.

"What?"

"Today's date is October 3rd, 1942. The battle we appeared in the middle of was a pro-Grindawald radical group who destroyed a large wizarding community, killing everyone."

Harry stopped breathing, eyes wide and fingers clenching into the sheets around him. Hermione looked just as shocked and distressed.

"Why..?" He started, before taking a deep breath and trying again. "Why are we here? The ritual was simple, it was supposed to bring us success and achievement. Not send us 50 bloody years back!"

Hermione ran a hand through her tangled and windblown hair, huffing. "I haven't the slightest idea. But mainly I'm worried about the questioning we're unavoidably going to go through."

Harry went to agree, before something hit him. "Hermione, what was with the random story you said earlier? You aren't the type to randomly start spouting things, what came over you?" He asked, slightly irritated.

She pursed her lips. "I'm not sure..It just felt right. It felt like those we're the correct answers."

Harry laughed coldly. "Correct answers? Hermione you said we were siblings! Newsflash, we look nothing alike! And the bloodtests out there are going to prove our lies!"

Hermione gave him a look, one that made him feel stupid for doubting her even though her response was bullshit. "Do leave this to me Harry. Everyone knows that my ability to get off scott free is legendary. Just ask Pansy Parkinson." She paused, and Harry stiffled a laugh. A large grin overtook her face. "Oh wait..you can't."

  
"Can you tell me your full names?" The female Auror from before, Marial, asked, her weedy partner scribbling notes behind her. Hermione was sitting up composed, obviously taking the lead between the two.

"My name is Hermione Black and this is Hadrian Black, my brother." She as I confidently. Harry didn't show his surprise at the names.

Marial's eyebrows furrowed as she glanced between them. "You're siblings?"

Hermione nodded firmly. Her tangled brown, bouncy, curls flew around her face, a stark to Harry's short only black straight hair despite the similar untamableness.

"We are siblings in everything but blood, though our parents have been talking about changing that."

"Can you explain?"

Yes Hermione, please explain the incredibly detailed crazy past you've concocted for us. He was sure she knew that simpler ones are less likely to be proven false, so what was she doing?

Hermione looked sad but as if she was trying to hide the fact, shoulders sagging and lips tightening. Harry wanted to applaud her acting skills.

"I'm adopted. My own parents died in an accident when I was just a baby so my Godmother, Harry's mother, took me in and raised me as her own."

Marial nodded sadly, looking at Hermione with pity. Harry was busy trying to remember the information and not yell at his best friend over how unnecessarily complicated this was.

"It was fully legal I promise you, blood adoption some by the goblins and all. But Mother wanted to wait until Harry and I were older to give us the choice to blood adopt eachother." She finished, dark fingers picking at the snow white sheets.

"Can-" Marial cleared her throat, "Can you tell us your parents names? And then the full name of your friend over there?"

"Mother's name is Cassiopeia Black and Father's is Ralstan Potter. Neither are of direct branches and Father was displeased with how his brother, Lord Henry Potter, shamed dark magic and family's so Father took Mother's name after marrage." Hermione recited, as if she'd heard this information many times.

"That's Ronald Fawley. He's our neighbor, we homeschool with him." Harry spoke up, startled when the information came out. He didn't think that up..where was the story coming from then?

Hermione caught his eye and nodded in understanding. She must have a theory.

Harry looked over to the Aurors, making his voice weak. "What's happened to our parents?"

Marian swallowed. "I'm afraid that no one else in the town survived. You three are the only ones." She stood straighter, reigning in her emotions. "I'm afraid as orphans you fall under control of the government until we can contact your relatives. Do you have a preference to maternal or paternal?"

"Maternal. What's going to happen to us until then?"

"Well kids, all three of you are to start Hogwarts within the next week. You're free to leave the hospital as soon as your friend comes around with an Auror representative to watch over you as you get anything you might need for the school year. Do you have any questions?"

"No ma'am." They answer, pretending to be meek and mourning the sudden news of their parents death. The Auror's take their leave, and Harry and Hermione slump exhausted back into their beds. It's been a long day.

 

* * *

 

 

Ron was furious when he woke, threatening Harry so violently and creatively Harry worried that the pure magic whipping around would actually curse him out of nothing more than intent.

He calmed down a bit when Hermione filled him in, though he continued looking at them like that were crazy, likely thinking the same thoughts Harry had originally. They leave the hospital three hours after they're checked in and are assigned an Auror chaperone much to their annoyance. However they were only 15 and not to be allowed wandering off alone. Couldn't even be emancipated yet.

The Auror, a young man named Cairo Reeves, was obviously a new recruit and was happy enough to just check into the room next to their in the Leaky Cauldron and call it a day. The sun was rapidly setting by then so the three locked themselves in one of their rooms to discuss.

Harry had no patience and went straight to the point. "Where is this information coming from? Hermione, a could have just doomed ourselves."

She sat on on of the made beds, looking at the dusty torn robe she wore with distaste. "Don't you see? None of the Aurors were suspicious. They even told us our parents were dead, something that only would have done if the names I mentioned were among the dead."

"So what does that mean?" Ron asked.

Hermione's eyes glittered in the low lighting, a fascination with the situation apparent. Hermione always did love information, and it seemed they were in the prime situation for her to learn more. "It means the information I used was correct. I recognised the names, Cassiopeia and Ralstan Black were actual people, they were on the Black Family Tapestry. They had no children, but our presence here could have changed that." She said, face alight with curiosity and glee. It was an almost manic look, especially in the lighting, a look that had seen before when she had done horrid things just to obtain knowledge.

"You said my last name was Fawley? That's a pureblood family in the Sacred 28, but I remember reading somewhere that the bloodline died out around the first World War." Ron commented absent-mindedly.

"So what are you hinting at?" Harry asked Hermione.

"Time has rewritten itself for us. We were misplaced tears in the current time line, so time itself wove us in. We actually are Blacks, and I'm willing to bet a blood test at Gringots will show all the information I just told the Aurors."

Harry scoffed, and Hermione darkened at his disbelief. "Have you evened opened your eyes Harry? You said earlier we look nothing alike, but we do! We didn't before, but suddenly I have featuresI didn't have yesterday. Sharp cheekbones, darker hair, aristocratic features..., Harry, your hair is more disheveled than rats nest, and your eyes have never been greener. Your bonestructure is more feminine, your features more noble. Even Ron looks different!" 

Harry quieted, eyes scanning her face and seeing she was right. Her skin face was more sharp, her hair was inky and more curly than frizzy. It wasn't immedietly noticible, but Hermione looked like the women on Sirius's tapestry. And Ron looked more like a pureblood than ever.

"I guess we'll see tomorrow." Ron said, his voice weak and baffled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another one! So soon! Even I'm impressed. This one was a lot of research, due to the fact that explaining away three people suddenly existing Is much harder than just Harry. So their backstory is complicated but airtight, and I am actually considering having Harry and Hermione blood adopt eachother. However that would make both of them half black, and I don't know if that's what I want. Harry is white in this though I usually get behind the middle eastern or whatever headcanon.
> 
> Any way, Cassiopeia Black is actually on the Black Tapestry, however canonicly she is unmarried. Rastan Potter is an Oc brother to Henry Potter, named after one of the Potter ancestors so I can still have Harry have Peverell blood, and all three of them have Sacred 28 blood so I don't have to deal with Slytherin prejudice. Any complaints? Is it still too fast paced? Review below please!


	3. The Shopping Trip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry it's been so long everyone, my work accidentally deleted and I had to rewrite it. But I was struggling for some reason..  
> Hope you enjoy! Leave me a comment?

Sunlight streamed through the heavy curtains over the window, slicing beams of light over the twin beds in the room. Harry blinked tiredly, and was immedietly gifted with the sight of Ron's drooling face. Harry's nose wrinkled in distaste, and he slowly moved his head to the right, immediately being attacked by a head full of bushy hair. He nearly sneezed, the curly black hair blocking his sight and tickling his nose. Hermione's solid body was warm against his side, hand clutched close to her chest and head rested on his own bare one.

None of the three had felt comfortable with the thought of Hermione sleeping alone in the room across the hall. They were in an unknown situation due to unknown magics and prefered to keep an eye on each other. And Hermione had slept curled around Harry several times before, it was never akward the way it was the one time Hermione fell asleep in Ron's bed. The familiar scene was disorientating and stabilizing at the same time.

Harry wasn't sure how to feel about this situation honestly. It was unnerving, suddenly being 50 years in the past, decades before he was born. But the concept of a completely clean slate? That was too good to be true. This all seemed too easy, and Harry had a sinking feeling that it was because things were about to get hard. Very hard. After all, good times for him usually led to tragedy.

  
"Do shut up Harry, I can hear your brooding starting." Hermione grumbled, a single bleary eye popping open to glare at him. He resisted the urge to laugh, dark mood receding.

"Good morning cheerful." He said, teasing. Hermione sent a small shock at him through her fingers, making him jump and mutter a curse. He heard her laugh quietly.

A loud, rattling snore startled them, and to Harry's amusement seemed to also startle Ron even though he had been the source. Ron was so startled, in fact, that he promptly scrambled half asleep right over the side of the bed, making a heavy thump against the hard floor.

"Bloody fucking Jesus Christ!" Ron swore, sitting up and whipping his head around franticly. His hair was a rats nest and his freckles stood out against the pale shade of white he had become. Harry and Hermione were stiffling laughter behind hands but failing. Ron's eyes eventually landed on them, and he playfully scowled.

"Come on, we should probably get up and beat the crowds in town." Harry said, deciding not to make a snide remark. Hermione sighed and sat up, stretching out the kinks in her back. Harry grinned when he spotted Ron's look at her, and got up to dress.

 

* * *

  
Diagon Alley was nearly an exact replica of what it was in his time, and the stagnant nature of the wizarding world irritated him. The buildings were the same, just newer, and the street was in slightly less disrepair. Every sign he read was a store he recognised and with Ron and Hermione at his side he could almost pretend nothing changed at all. It was both comforting, to have a familiar place among a discomforting expirience, and terrifying, to acknowledge that in 50 years nothing changes.

The pinched look on Hermione's face let him know he wasn't the only one who noticed. Ron just kept yammering next to them about Merlin knows what. The large gleaming bank in the center was obviously their first stop, as none of them had more than the strange robes they awoke in.

"After Gringotts we should go buy something to eat, I'm bloody starving." Ron said, stance casual and confident.

"Ronald, I don't think it's a very good idea to be in town too long. We're supposed to be purebloods, ones of a very high rank at that, and none of us at familiar with the customs or anything." Hermione piped up, glancing around at the people walking near them. Ron deflated but didn't argue, knowing the minimal pureblood training he had gotten growing up would do them no help.

No one even bothered to look up when they entered the bank, and Harry was quite enjoying not being stared at like a circus animal for once in his life. Harry led the way to the Goblins and stood in front of one.

"We wish to take an inheritance test and access our vaults." Harry called up to the squat creature, features blank and chin raised. The goblin looked down at them in barely contained contempt but summoned another goblin to them without comment. The new goblin ushered them down the big entrance room and down to the winding hallways where they have their private rooms.

They were sat in a deep red room with dark wood and expensive looking furniture. It was an average sized room, about the same size as a large office. The goblin sat on a couch across from the three, mouth set in a permanent scowl.

"The fee is four sickles," he announced in a scratchy voice, "The money is to be paid up front or we will take it from your vaults with an extra sickle fee."

Three snow white papers were passed towards them, the Gringotts official watermark on the bottom. Ron and Harry blinked at the papers for a moment, never having had to take an inheritance test and not sure what it entailed. Hermione looked at them and nearly rolled her eyes. A gold handled knife skid across the table with a loud scraping noise and she quickly scooped it up and sliced her finger. Scarlet blood welled up on the wound and she tipped it toward at the blank paper, letting three drops splatter over it before she popped her finger in her mouth.

Harry and Ron quickly followed suit and watched with barely hidden fascination as the blood dissapeared and was scrawled into words.

_Hermione Callidora Black_

_Birth Father: Regulus Black (Deceased)_  
_Birth Mother: Marrionett Black neé Burke (Deceased)_

 _Adopted Father: Ralston Black neé Potter (Deceased)_  
_Adopted Mother: Cassiopeia Black (Deceased)_

_Sibling(s): Hadrian Black_

_Active Marriage Contracts: N/A_

_Creature Inheritance: N/A_

_Genetic Abilities: N/A_

  
Hermione scanned the rest of the sheet, which informed her of her trust fund, the fact that she was last in line for all Heirships due to being a woman, and that she'd gain access to the larger vaults once she hit 17. She glanced at the boys, who had quickly followed suit in snatching up their papers.

  
_Hadrian Ignotus Black_

 _Birth Father: Ralston Black neé Potter (Deceased)_  
_Birth Mother: Cassiopeia Black (Deceased)_

_Sibling(s): Hermione Black_

_Active Marriage Contracts: N/A_

_Creature Inheritance: N/A_

_Genetic Abilities: Wandless Magic, Potential Master of Death_

_Active Heirships: Peverell_

  
_Ronald Finneus Fawley_

 _Birth Father: Finneus Fawley (Deceased)_  
_Birth Mother: Rebecca Fawley neé Abbott (Deceased)_

_Sibling(s): N/A_

_Active Marriage Contracts: N/A_

_Creature Inheritance: N/A_

_Genetic Abilities: Necromancer_

_Active Heirships: Fawley_

  
"That's so fucking cool!" Ron exclaimed, holding his paper up to his face as if the words would disappear. Hermione shot him a disapproving look but Harry just grinned. The goblin stared bored at them.

"We'll each take 200 gallons from our vaults." Harry informed the goblin. Ron finally stopped his manic smiling and gaped at him.

"200 gallons??"

"That should cover a full wardrobe, all the books we'll need, school supplies…I mean honestly Ron we are building a life from scratch." Hermione said, ignoring his stuttering disbelief. Harry supposed that to Ron, 200 gallons was quite a lot. He certainly would have had the same reaction if he had just entered the wizarding world, but by 15 he was mostly used to having ridiculous amounts of money.

After a nauseating cart ride to their vaults and back they made their way down the streets of Diagon Ally once more. Hermione was mumbling about whether the bookstores in the Ally would have some of the books they'd need or if they'd have to go down Knockturn. Harry wasn't sure if the stores would sell them either, but didn't want to be caught in an area filled with Purebloods before they know what they're doing.

So they swept into Flourish and Blott's with fingers crossed. Ron was sent off to buy three trunks because he was incapable of being in a bookstore without being bored out of his mind. Harry and Hermione split up to check the sections for anything of use. Harry wandered down the shelves, scanning over the mismatched books and their names. The store smelled like dust and paper, with a hint of something warm. He ran his fingers over the bindings, the soft conversations and the tinkling of the door fading away. He grabbed history books and books about the Ministry, and to his delight found three books on the manners, traditions, and general knowledge for purebloods. From what he could see from his position, Hemione was also pulling out quite a few and he was pleased they could put off a Knockturn trip until they had educated themselves.

"Can you believe some of these books? There's a chapter in here that talks about muggle hunting." Harry said idly when Hermione walked up to him. A book was open in his hands and when he glanced up from it he could see she also had her nose in a book.

"There are bound to be a few distastful things in here, and at least one of these is going to be just blood supremacy drivel. But hopefully they will tell us what we need to know in order to pass. Purebloods do have etiquettes and rules they must follow." She informed him absently.

"It's like being a royal in the times of old. Can't wait to act just like a Malfoy."

Hermione rolled her eyes and they took their books to the register to buy them. Harry gave the cashier a bashful smile when he gave them a weird look. It must look fairly weird to see a wizard and a witch buying so many books on purebloods and such. They were able to buy the books without issue though and were quick to search out Ron.

They found him standing in front of Quality Quidditch Supplies, an icecream cone in one hand and a bag of shrunken trunks in the other. He was staring at the newest broom proudly displayed in the window. The sign labled it as a Silver Arrow and Harry was reminded that the brooms of this time were much slower and of lesser quality. He nearly scowled.

"Don't know if I'll try out for Quidditch again but I'd still like a broom." Ron commented, turning to look at them.

Hermione looked ready to protest when Harry spoke up. " Actually, buying a broom is probably smart. We're rich pureblood boys, it only makes sense we'd own a broom. The best broom even."

Hermione gave him a look that made it clear that she knew he was bullshitting, but with a long suffering sigh gestured for them to be quick. Both boys grinned and hurried into the shop, barely remembering to keep up a pureblood posture. Hermione smiled at their enthusiasm and tried not to feel impatient as she waited.

Eventually the exited the bustling store with a shiny Silver Arrow perched on each of their shoulders, joking around. She bustled them down the cobblestone street with little patience, nearly shoving them into Twilfitt and Tattings.

A stiff looking man looked up from where he was writing and looks at them appraisingly from over his specticles. Harry straightened up and blanked his face, trying to channel his inner Malfoy.

"How may I help you today?" He asked them, quill tapping against his parchment.

"We'd like to purchase three full wardrobes. Casual wear, formal wear, sleepwear if you have any." Harry informed him. His eyes brightened with the thought of how much that would all cost, but he obviously wasn't one to rush into things.

"And you can pay for this?" He drawled, eyes narrowed at their slightly torn robes and the disarray of their hair.

"We can." Harry agreed, plucking the money bag out of his robes and opening it enough for him to see the large amount of gallons inside. This seemed to convince him and the man was immedietly on his feet and pointing them to a platform to stand on. Measuring tapes whizzed through the air and immedietly started taking their measurements with jerky, quick movements.

Hermione let out a squeak when hers pulled tight around her waist, and Rob blushed when his measured his inseam. Harry was disgruntled when his wrapped around his hips and the measurements were noticeably larger than his waist. Damn feminine hips.

The flurry of movements ended as abruptly as it began, and Harry felt oddly off balanced.

"Do you have a preference for color, fabric, or style?"

Harry thought about it for a moment, but a quick glance at his friends told him they had about as little idea of fashion as he did.

"Perhaps darker colors? Do as you see fit. If we approve you'll be heavily tipped." Harry said, faking confidence. He was sure the man was either going to kick them out for his demanding attitude or make their clothes hideous, but to his relief the man seemed excited about the idea.

"Of course." He agreed, giving them a good look over before grabbing a fabric book off a nearby table. "I haven't gotten to choose in ages. All these bossy women think they know best, I'll gladly take a challenge." He muttered to himself.

Harry almost regretted his decision when the next long while was spent being tugged around and shoved into things and having fabrics and colors held against him. But the delight on the man's face and the promise that the clothes would be done by tomorrow eased his irritation.

It was nearing 4 by the time they were able to make their way back to their room, hands heavy with books, brooms, trunks, and a set of pajamas and robes each. Harry had been pleased that the man had made a few for them quick before they had to leave. The quality was good he had to admit, and from his glimpse at them they were nice.

Though all he and Ron wanted to do upon reaching their room in the Leaky was collapse, Hermione quickly pulled out books and plopped them on their laps. Ron sighed and Harry flipped open the heavy book with resignation.

 


	4. Malfoy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, Igot a bit stuck with this one. It's a bit fast as a result.
> 
> Next chapter we will meet Riddle, and going back to the 2nd chapter I edited the bottom section to add in new information. I realized it didn't make sense, if they actually had differentblood now, to not have their appearance a change slightly. They still look mostly like themselves though, don't worry!

"I feel like a bloody princess." Harry grumbled, back straight as a ruler and two hardcover books balanced on his head. Hermione was watching Ron and him like a hawk, closely inspecting their walk. She had perfected it easily, and admitted that she used to do it as a child to feel like the Queen.

"I'll be happy to make you look like one too if you don't stop your whining." Hermione threatened casually. Harry glared at her, hands protectively covering his navy blue expensive robes.

"Don't even _think_ of transfiguring these, we didn't pay all that money for new robes just for you to turn them into ballgowns!"

"Are you suggesting that I'm incapable of turning them back to their original state?" Her voice was sharp. Harry was about to backpedal when Ron spoke.

" 'Mione, you realize that you're going to have to pass as well right?"

She faced him, puzzled. That had seemingly come from nowhere. "Obviously."

"Well the rules of the 40's are to 'sit and look pretty' and 'speak only when spoken to. You're going to have to learn when to express your opinions." He pointed out, not cruely.

Her face twisted into a disgruntled grimace and she raised her chin.

"Ronald if you expect me to let others walk over me because I have a vagina you have another thing coming to you." Her voice was low and dangerous, eyes glinting.

"Of course not. Theres no doubt we'll be in Slytherin and behavior like that will not be acceptable. However you still have to remember your station, and that means you can't go against a male of higher standing." Harry agreed, remembering the books they had been reading since yesterday. Pureblood etiquette was a subtle thing, nothing drastically new for them to do. It was mostly just traditions such as courting and a good amount of societal etiquette.

Hermione deflated a bit, but it was obvious she wasn't pleased. He wouldn't be either, suddenly having even less rights and more rules on how to act. The shame brought on a pureblood girl for her misstep was far greater than a males.

A steady rapping at their door startled them, and Ron's books toppled off his head with a loud clatter. He let out a colorful string of curses while Hermione went to open the door and Harry set his own stack of books on a table nearby.

Auror Reeves was standing outside, grinning cheerfully with three letters and a stack of papers in his hand.

"Sorry kids, but it's time for boring school stuff. We need you to pick out your classes before we head out to buy your school supplies. You're entering your 5th year correct?"

"Yes Sir."

"I remember my 5th year." Reeves said wistfully. He glanced around at their uninterested faces and cleared his throat, back to buisness. "Headmaster Dippet was kind enough to take your word on classes, he won't force you to take the beginning electives with the third years. So what classes-"

Harry was done with the Auror, even though he hadn't been there more than three minutes. He was obviously about to shove his way in and try to help them with their class selection. It was kind, what Reeve's was doing, but they weren't really mourning teenagers and he could see he wasn't the only one who's patience was wearing thin. He stepped up, and with a charming smile took the small stack of papers from the Aurors arms and dismissed him with a quick, "Thank you for your help, we'll come to your room when we are finished to give you the paperwork."

He turned quickly and moved back to the beds, attempting to immitate the walk they had been practicing. Graceful, powerful, confident. Reeves gaped, but stuttered out an akward farewell and left their room. Immedietly the trio relaxed and gathered around the papers. He handed each of them the packers with their names in them, and Hermione descended hungrily on it.

"Harry! Look at the differences! Classes like Healing, Wards and Other Protections, look a class specifically on Household Charms!" She spouts excitedly, flipping through the pages excitedly. Harry smiled fondly at her, and sat down at the headboard of their bed, opening his own packet. Ron was sitting identical to Harry with a bored look on his face.

"Don't think I'm going to take anything but the Core classes honestly. Unlike you lot, I'm not a bloody bookworm."

Hermione frowned and looked ready to argye, but Harry just grinned at Ron. "Do what you want, but wouldn't Runes be beneficial to your ritual knowledge?"

A few seconds later Son was scribbling it down with a muttered, "Fine, but nothing else! I'm not going to spend all my time with my nose up a books ars-"

"Ronald!" Hermione scolded. Harry held back the urge to laugh. "You can't talk like that outside of the three of us, now that you're a heir. You really should try to watch your mouth."

"Yes mum." Ron said sarcastically. Hermione's eyes darkened and with a swift flick of her wrist Ron was shouting, hands shooting up to clutch his sliced cheek.

Her grin was bloodthirsty, and Ron's free to match it as he casually reached for his wand.

Harry had seen the duel thousands of times, wounds ranging from childhood hexes to crucio's. However they were not in an area where duelingwould go unnoticed, and was quick to put an end to it by wandlessly summoning their wands.

Both made a displeased noise, but with a stern look they turned back to their papers.

Harry turned to his own and deliberated his options. He wrote down the classes he wanted to take on the designated lines.

_Charms_

_Defense_

_Herbology_

_History of Magic_

_Potions_

_Transfiguration_

_Arithmancy_

_Study of Ancient Runes_

_Magical Theory_

He paused, looking over to Hermione who was franticly scribbling. "Do you know anything about Music?"

She glanced up, eyebrows furrowed. "Not a clue. I think Lavender took it but I always tune out when she speaks."

He shrugs and sets his quill down. "Oh well, didn't care too much. Just was curious."

Hermione leaned over, glancing over his chicken scratch. She nodded when she was done. "That's a good selection, a bit demanding though." She then frowned. "Remind me to help you with your penmanship, it's simply horrible."

"Hey, wonder why DADA is just Defense right now." Ron finally spoke up.

"It was Defense from the founders time up until Dumbledore took up the Headmaster position. What I can't figure out is why all these different classes dissapeared.." Hermione responded, setting her quill down as well. Harry called at the long list she had written, and resigned himself to another year of barely seeing her. At least she hasn't taken every class this time.

  
Reeves was incredibly relunctant to let the three go shopping by themselves , obviously unsure if letting them to as they pleaded was really doing his job, but a little sneaky compulsion charm and they were off, in new robes and strutting along like the purebloods they now were.

The Alley was still disconcerting in its stagnant nature, but on a bustling weekend it was easier to focus on the differences. Like the fashion, and the large amount of people. The wizarding popularion was higher than any of them had ever seen it, not yet depleted by wars.

They caught a few eyes, especially when people noticed they were buying supplies for Hogwarts in October. Their looks also drew a bit of attention, both for being attractive and for being so obviously pureblood. Harry almost wanted to scowl. It was helpful, and made sense now that Gringotts had confirmed the blood running through their blood was different. They had been molded for this universe, and Harry didn't know if he liked it.

Eventually they slipped into Knockturn Ally, not one person blinking an eye at the sight of them as they strode down the cracked stone path. They were quietly deliberating about which store to visit first when, but looking at where he was going, Harry ran directly into someone.

The person was a bit taller than him -not that that was hard- and instinctually grabbed his shoulders to steady him. Hermione and Ron went quiet, and as Harry moved back an inch to look at the man he had run into, he realized why.

Slightly wavy blond hair fell into steel grey eyes, familiar features set in familiar snow white skin. A Malfoy. Except instead of a sneer, the Malfoy's lips curled into a grin, flirty and mischievous.

"You really should watch where you're going, couldn't have a pretty face like yours running into trouble."

Harry's eyes widened, and didn't have to look behind him to know Hermione and Ron were alert and tense, ready for a fight.

But Harry's lips quirked back, amused. "I thought I just did."

Malfoy laughed, bright and unexpected. He stepped back, releasing Harry. He thrust a hand forward, introducing himself. "Abraxas Malfoy, Heir of the most Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy."

Harry took it. He wasn't looking for friends, but this connection could only be benificial. After all, Draco had been quite interesting. Bratty and entitled, but interesting.

"Aha, I knew it. Trouble." He teased. "Hadrian Black, of the most Ancient and Noble House of Black."

Malfoy's eyes widened, just a fraction but Harry noticed. They released hands, and Harry felt his friends come up to flank him.

Etiquette demanded he introduced them. "May I introduce you to my lovely cousin Hermione Black," He gestured to her, noticing her face was blank but pleasant and her body was purposly relaxed. "And our friend Ronald Fawley." Ron was the same.

Malfoy's eyes eagerly took them all in, smile hungry, a tad sharp. "Blacks and a Fawley? It must be my lucky day. I can't believe we haven't met at one of my family's Yule Balls, or another social function."

Digging for information. Harry would find this rude, if not for the opportunity it presented him.

"Mother and Father were too indulgent with us, let us avoid them until we were of age." His smile turned slightly sad. "I'm afraid they didn't have the chance to introduce us, but before their passing."

Malfoy drank this information in, pasting a cake sympathetic look on his face. "In sorry for your loss. And Fawley?"

Ron's cold eyes connected with Malfoy's. "My parents despised social functions, prefered their own company all the way up until the day they died."

"If you'll excuse us, Heir Malfoy, we were about to finish up our shopping before heading back to the Inn. I'm sure we can have a lengthier conversation another time, one where we aren't in a rush and you aren't supposed to be at Hogwarts." Harry said smoothly, polite as can be.

Malfoy smirked, winking. "I'll look forward to it, Black. Have a pleasant day, and if you would keep my.. adventures to yourself, I would be ever so grateful."

He walked pass them, leaving the three in a swish of robes and the crack of apparition. Underaged apparition, how fascinating.

"A Malfoy, how charming." Hermione commented. Ron scowled. Neither seemed to be very taken with him. Harry, however, was cheerful, a bounce in his step as they continued onwards.

"Much more charming than his future descendents." Harry was grateful for the chance to have their story spread.

Purebloods with mysteriously deceased parents, suddenly appearing in the Alley after 15 years of avoiding the wizarding world. Suspicious, but hopefully less suspicious if Malfoy spreads the word instead of them.

Well, that and Harry doesn't have the patience to tell the story over and over. He'dand up hexing someone for sure.

 

 


	5. Something New

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologys to everyone who read this immedietly after I posted, I briefly forgot that I had this set in October and not at the beginning of the year. I have edited the mistakes, though it isn't entirely necessary to re-read it.

The chatter in the large hall was like background static, and Tom only tended to tune in when something caught his attention. He didn't tend to talk though, just filed information away. Except this meal, Malfoy wouldn't shut up.

"Another Black? Can you believe it? That family breeds like dogs." Malfoy commented, sending a smirk at Orion Black who was sitting two seats to Tom's right.

"Shut it. Just because the Malfoys haven't had more than one kid in generations doesn't mean the rest of our family's are nearly infertile." Black bit back.

"I have to admit, I much prefer your cousin to you. He was cute, and very charming. Though his company was less than." Malfoy mused.

Tom heard Dolohov complain loudly next to him about the lack of food, and Tom looked over the top of his book to find the tables empty of their meal, just as Dolohov had said. The students could be heard loudly complaining about across the hall, and Tom scrunched his nose in annoyance for the briefest second. You'd think these children hadn't eaten like pigs since arrival, the way they whine. Tom closed his book and turned his eyes towards the teacher's, looking to see their reactions to the oddity.

Dippet stood from his seat, and the hall went nearly silent. "Before we commence with our feast, Hogwarts would like to welcome three new transfer students."

The hall bursted with whispers, and Tom noticed that the sorting hat in all it's tattered glory had in fact been placed at it usual spot. Strange, Tom had never heard of students transferring before.

The hall doors open and three teens sweep in, elegant postures and blank faces marking them as purebloods. Malfoy lifted out of his seat to get a good look at them, and Tom nearly scolded him for his behavior, except he couldn't quite take his eyes off the scene.

"Those are the three I was telling you about!" Malfoy whispered excitedly. Tom hadn't seen him get this excited since that Ravenclaw girl agreed to a date, and he sent a look at him before turning back to the trio.

He couldn't see their faces from where he was sitting, could only see the back of them as they stood in front of the stool. The tall one was freckled and ginger, with a stiff back and a posture that suggested he was uncomfortable. Next to him was a shorter girl with unruly black curls and dark skin, she stood more relaxed but alert, as if she was waiting for something to happen. On the ginger's other side was a lithe boy who was shorter than the both of them, with curly,  inky black hair that's untamed, and tan skin. His posture was graceful, effortless, regal.

"Black, Hadrian." Dumbledore called down to the group, battered hat in hand. The short boy walked up to the stool and sat, finally facing Tom as the hat was placed on his head.

Hadrian Black had androgynous features, feminine but with an underlying strength that ment there was no mistake he was male. He wasn't a stunning beauty, more of a silent one that people always notice but never drool over. Black features would do that. Except, Tom noticed, Those green eyes. Such a vibrant shade, a shade of both tragedy and beauty. Those were not a Black trait.

The hat stired, and from it's flap lips it shouted out, "SLYTHERIN!" Polite clapping followed, and Tom watched Dumbledore's pleasant facade slipped when he took the hat back with a sharp movement. Black stood and swept past his friends to the Slytherin table, pausing to whisper with them for a brief second. Of course Black was going to be targeted by the batty professor like the rest of them. Black AND Slytherin, he must be evil.

"Black, Hermione." Was called next, and the girl confidently took a seat, a haughty expression of her face. She too, had Black features. Strong but feminine, sharp cheekbones, large eyes lined in lashes. But her eyes were a dark brown, plain and ordinary. Her call of "Slytherin" was also awarded by clapping, but Tom had no interest in her. His eyes trailed over to where Black was being waved over to sit with a group of older Slytherin girls.

"Fawley, Ronald." Was called, the tall boy. He looked completely and utterly average, and Tom dismissed him without a thought, not caring even when yet another "Slytherin!" was announced.

"That's odd, Walburga and her giggling group don't tend to welcome newcomers." Mulciber mentioned, filling his plate now that the food had finally arrived.

"Don't address her like that, Mulcuber. You aren't that familiar!" Orion Black growled, glaring at him. Mulcuber snickered and started to taunt him again but Tom had tuned them out once more, gazing intently at the odd little trio.

 

  
"Dear Cousin, do come sit with us!" A girl called out to Harr-Hadrian as he walked slowly down the table in search for a seat. Hadrian looked over the fair skinned girl, taking in her appearence. Her hair was tightly curled and swept away from her face, a black that wasn't as dark as his own and artfully styled. Her features were sharp and beautiful, her lips plump and glossed and her cheeks a pretty pink. But her eyes were narrow and as sharp as her cheekbones, a familiar dark brown lined with thick lashes. He knew this girl, and her resemblance to him confirmed his suspicions. He sat.

"I am Walburga Black, of the most Ancient and Noble House of Black. I'm afraid we haven't met before Cousin." She offered her hand, smiling kindly at him. Harry was hit with how different the pretty girl in front of him was to her ugly, horrible portrait. He took her hand and pressed it chastly to his lips, and was rewarded with a pleased smile. He felt movement to his right and could see Hermione's bushy hair in his peripheral vision.

"Hadrian Black, and my sister Hermione Black. It's a pleasure to meet you now, if nothing else." He smiled at her, genuinely. She was family, even back before. He hadn't gotten to know much family.

Hermione greeted her politely and dipped her head instead of kissing her hand like Harry. Walaburga looked tickled with them, and dipped her head back. Her smile could light up a room, and Hadrian could in fact see a few boys looking longinly.

"A pleasure to meet you both. May I introduce our other relatives, Lucretia and Cygnus Black, as well as our friends Adney Yaxley and Belinda Goyle."

Lucretia had the Black's good looks, but had stronger features and short, cropped black hair that barely tickled her jaw. Her lips were ruby red and her jaw was strong giving her a determined look about her. She regarded him with eyes the same color as Hermione and Walburga, not warm like her cousins but analytical, like she was sizing them up.

Cygnus was older than Lucretia, who seemed to be the youngest of the three, and had a very masculine face shape. His hair was gelled to keep the curls neatly back, and his clothes were impecibly neat. The Black Heir ring sat glittering on his hand, and while he was relaxed he didn't seem to feel either way about the two.

Adney was tall and strong but plain looking, with mocha skin and average features. His hair was cut close to his head, and he smiled kindly at them both, a Heir ring on his finger also though he looked to be Hadrian and Hermione's age. He was already eating, much like Ron who had slipped into Hadrian's other side during the introductions.

Belinda was a larger woman like her descendent, but most seemed to be muscle. She was pretty however, even if her features were a bit handsome. Her hair was pinned back as if she couldn't bother with it, and she had a few scars.

After introductions, there was the inevitable conversation about the three's family and absence from pureblood society, which they swiftly explained and moved on from. Then came class work and interests, and Hadrian found he quite liked the bunch. Lucretia was loudly opinionated and brash, while Cygnus was a bit of a snob and rude but neither were unlikable. And Yaxley, though more posh, shared a few of Ron's more mischevious and kind traits while Goyle quickly roped Hadrian into a debate about quidditch, which she apparently played.

"I didn't know women were allowed to play Quidditch." Hermione spoke up, confused. This group didn't act the way the books had said those of their station should. Walburga, clearly the leader in their group, laughed.

"They didn't up until last year, when Lucretia promptly threw a fit at Headmaster Dippett for the sexist rule. Lucretia found out about the feminist movement that summer, and while I find it a bit batty we've decided to support her."

Hermione blinked, mouth slightly parted as she turned to look at the younger girl. Lucretia's cheeks were a bit red and she glared at them, dating them to comment. "Look, Hermione, pureblood women have a way they need to act. But while we must be meek and feeble and obedient in front of our father's and men like Malfoy and Abbott, we do _not_ need to be less than ourselves with eachother." She took a breath. "And while you're friends with us, we'd like you to do the same."

Hermione slowly smiled, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Hadrian and Ron both grinned at her, but the moment was interupted when Yaxley spoke up. "Riddle is heading this way."

Instantly the atmosphere changed and the three watched and mimicked the way the group regained their poise and ettiquette.

"Well, he is a Prefect. Riddle must have been tasked to introduce them to Slytherin and Hogwarts instead of them being with Crouch." Goyle said, delicately picking at her food as she subtly watched the boy approach.

Hadrian's mind raced, quickly snapping together information he hadn't before. It was '42, which was when Tom Riddle was in his 5th year. The year he finds the chamber. Which ment Riddle was currently a Slytherin prefect and in his year.

He turned only when a throat was cleared behind him, and gazed up into honey brown eyes. Riddle was a perfect replica of the diary horocrux, tall and neat and handsome. The prefect badge shone on his robes and his charming smile didn't reach his eyes.

"Excuse me for interrupting, but I thought it best to show you to the common rooms before the rest of the house files in. I am Tom Riddle, 5th year Prefect."

Hermione and Ron gazed at him with blank, suspicious faces, but Hadrian knew that making an enemy of Riddle was not the way to avoid his attention. The best way to go about this, was to be completely and utterly unassuming.

"I am Hadrian Black, of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black." He introduced, remembering faintly that as Riddle didn't present himself as a pureblood Harry wasn't to introduce Ron and Hermione. Riddle inclined his head only the slightest bit and did not lower his eyes while doing so, a slight. Hadrian's smile tightened, but he didn't comment.

Ron spoke up, his usual cheerful tone gone. "Ronald Fawley, Heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Fawley."

Riddle's head once again inclined only the tiniest bit, staring straight into Ron's eyes. A move of dominance, Riddle's way of saying he believes himself better. Ron's eyes darkened.

Hermione outstretched her hand, face now cold but polite. "Hermione Black, of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black." She held back a grimace as Riddle took her hand and brushed his lips across her knuckles. Once again, making eye contact. An offense, as even as a woman Hermione was above Riddle due to her bloodline. Her lips twisted down, and she wiped her knuckles subtly across her robes.

"Shall we go?" Riddle asked, stepping back and standing back to his full height. Harry nodded, and the trio stood. Ron was irritated to find that even as the tallest of them, Riddle was still a few inches taller.

"Thank you for your company, Cousin's, and we shall see you all later." Hadrian said smoothly, before Riddle forced them all to follow him out of the Great Hall. Walburga smiled at their retreating forms, obviously taken with the three.

With Riddle stalking ahead of them, he didn't notice the way Hermione subtly caught Hadrian's attention and gave him a long look. Hadrian grimaced, knowing that whatever good luck that had made their passage here so easy had run out, and was now taking repayment.


	6. Hogwarts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit short, but I wanted to get something out. I ment to last week, but I was suddenly overwhelmed with schoolwork. Hope you still enjoy it, and I promise to get some actual plot in the next chapter.

Riddle prattled the entire way there about Hogwarts, information that would have been both interesting and useful had the three not already lived there for five years. So they tuned him out, Hadrian and Hermione shot looks at eachother in attempts to communicate. Ron was left on 'mhm'ing duty, something that clearly irritated Riddle.

It was only when they reached the Slytherin common room that they all snapped to attention, eyes on the blank wall ahead of them. Riddle was giving a quick laydown on hidden rooms for Hogwarts, which was actually quite informative, before stepping up to it and uttering a clear, "Hellebore."

The wall slid away and they were hurried into the green common rooms, Riddle obvously running out of patience with them.

In the '40's the Slytherin common rooms were less gaudy and actually quite beautiful. The floors were a dark cherry wood, illuminated by the large fireplace and the glowing orbs floating along the ceiling like lanterns. Tasteful chairs and couches of deep green and brown leather sat by the fire, with plush pillows and dark walnut tables were set up nearly around the room, covered in items that ranged from textbooks to games to a table covered completely in apples. A few silver rugs layed artfully on the floor. There were gorgeous paintings and tapestries, and walls of bookshelves in the back, but Hadrian's favorite part was the large windows that showed the Black Lake. They cast a slight green glow on the area around them, and the glass was overlayed by slim silver metal in elegant patterns around the edges. The occasional creature hurried by, and Harry was grateful he would not spend the year confined underground in a windowless house.

Riddle had started up another speech, likely the same ones the first years got, but paused when he noticed Hadrian's fascination with the windows. He took in the open wonderment on Hadrian's face, before clearing his throat. His voice was a tad kinder when he spoke next.

"You can oogle the view later Black, since my speech is boring you I suppose it's time to show you to the dorms."

And then he strode off, like a giant _twat_.

Ron was first to snap out of his surprise and hurry after him, but Harry and Hermione weren't far behind. It grew a bit dimmer down the hallways, but there was plenty of space to walk and torches linked the tops. Tom paused at a split, and turned to look at Hermione.

"I'm afraid there are spells on both hallways that prevent the opposite sex from entering so I cannot show you to your room personally. Just follow the hallway down a bit and look for the door with your name on the plaque."

Hermione didn't say anything, just turned on heel and walked down the hallway. Riddle sneered briefly before continuing down the boys hall.

"The same applies here. There are 8 fifth year boys this year so there are two dorm rooms. A bed will have been placed for you by the elves, it's the one with your trunk in front of it."

They paused in the hallway, and Harry noticed the gleaming silver plaques on the wooden doors. He scanned the one closest to him, and then the one across the hall. He and Ron were in separate rooms.

 **HADRIAN BLACK**  
**GARRETT LESTRANGE**  
**TOM RIDDLE**  
**MATTHEW ROSIER**

  
**RONALD FAWLEY**  
**QUINN NOTT**  
**ANTHONY WARRINGTON**  
**ADNEY YAXLEY**

Hadrian felt a pang of disappointment, but just reached for the handle of his room. He didn't notice Tom looming behind him, simply entered the dorm room and glanced around for his trunk. Unlike in Gryffindor there were no generic trunks by the beds, no issue of opening and closing to figure out which one was yours. Everyone had custom trunks, with initials and flare. Hadrian's was old and had HB in the right corner in silver metal letters. There were faint patterns of snakes on it that most wouldn't notice, as well as the Black crest. It was set by a bed in the left corner, farthest from the door and closest to another door, presumably the bathroom. He made a beeline for his bed, intent on his task.

  
Tom was baffled when instead of taking in any of the beautiful or impressive features of the room, Black immedietly crawled into his bed. Not even more than the cursory glance around, even the richest students were awed by Hogwart's beauty. But Black simply wasn't affected, and he wasn't even of the main line!

Tom was frustrated to see their beds were side by side, and was about to stalk off to the common room when he felt it. Strong magic drifted and swirled around the bed, strong enough he didn't need to be magic sensitive to feel it. Most of the boys set spells on their beds, such as silencing spells for when their wanking and anti-theft spells. But they were all weak little things, just precaution.

This was complicated magic, and Tom itched to see what it was. But barging in on spell casting while it happens was never a good idea, and he'd like to keep both his limbs and Black's opinion of him. He decided to find out tomorrow when Black wasn't around, and stalked out.

 

* * *

  
Hadrian buried his face in his arms, letting out a low groan. Hermione picked at her breakfast pastry across from him, the two nearly alone in the Great Hall. Most weren't awake yet, including Ron.

"What is it?"

He lifted his head only slightly, revealing his intense eyes nearly hidden by his unruly black hair.  
"I have three roommates. Three, _incredibly_ attractive roommates. Who, unlike my old roomates, sleep in various states of undress."

Hermione let out a soft peal of laughter, covering her mouth with her hand. Hadrian glared at her, but the corners of his lips twitched. He had tried to keep his eyes away from any living thing this morning, because he was firmly against being a pervert. Murder, torture, dark spells? Sure. But Hadrian was firmly against sexual predators.

"All three of them are attractive? Really?" Hermione asked, calming down from her laughter.

And the thing was, thay were. Some more than others, but all solid 8's and above. The only one he hadn't met was Matthew Rosier. While Riddle was cold and studious, and Lestrange was brash and mischevious, Rosier was normal. A bit clumsy, funny, and kind. Very frank and honest. And his honey brown eyes and rich curly brown hair didn't hurt.

"Well, what about your roomates? What are they like?" People were starting to filter in and Hadrian wanted to firmly steer the conversation from anything that could out him.

"They're an odd bunch. I share with Isadora Flint and Camellia Parkinson. And they couldn't be more opposite. Camellia decorated her area in soft colors and flowers, and has a love for wizarding romance novels. She's giggly and dreamy, and very kind. Isadora…has a love for the macabre. Like a goth girl from our time, but even though she's aloof and cold she's nice in her own way, and femimine."

Hadrian smiled, but had no chance to reply as Ron ungracefully plopped down next to them, yawning. Hermione sent him a dark glare, and Ron sat up straight so fast you'dthink he'd been hit by lightning.

"You guys talking about roomates? I've got Yaxley and some other guys, but anything's better than that prick Riddle. What gives Harry? You never said he was like this!"

Hadrian's mood darkened. He'd been trying to avoid thinking about his Tom, because truth was a bolt of disappointment had shot through him when he realized how different the two were. Riddle wasn't his Tom, he was younger and didn't have the memories Tom did. Not the years of isolation in the diary, not his first kill, not Harry. Harry spent three years befriending Tom, learning from him and teaching him. But Voldemort was going to need to be stopped, because what he was doing wasn't fighting for the dark. It was human eradication, and Tom needed to be sacrificed in the end.

Seeing Riddle made that wound throb, and every time he failed to act like Tom Harry- no, Hadrian- hated him more.

"Riddle is not Tom. For now, he's a nuisance. Likely he'll end up our advisary. Remember that." Hadrian said firmly. The lively mood was gone, and all of them were in sundued spirits by the time their new 'friends' joined them.


	7. A Different Time

"Black!" A voice called behind him, the only warning before an arm wrapped around his shoulders. Hermione was the only one with him due to Ron being held up in the great hall by a very disgruntled dorm mate. Apparently Nott was a stickler for cleanliness and Ron was..a disgusting slob.

Hermione scowled at the blonde as he reeled Hadrian in closer. Hadrian also frowned, a small thing ruined by the nearly non-existent pinkening of his cheeks. "Malfoy."

Malfoy grinned, his gold hair swept impecibly into the current style and his clothes nearly in place. Hadrian wondered if it took him as long as his grandson to make himself presentable. Nothing was funnier than finding out Draco Malfoy woke up with a floofy birds nest every morning.

"Other Black." Malfoy nodded his head at Hermione, who turned her nose up at him. Hermione hated being snubbed, and her snooty response made Hadrian's lips twitch.

"Really, it would be much easier to just use first names, wouldn't it?" Malfoy suggested, smiling hopefully at Hadrian. He pursed his lips and shook his head a firm no.

"I'm afraid I'm not that easy, Malfoy." Hadrian teased, purposely putting a bit of flirt into his words. Malfoy was a person to stay on the good side of, and Hadrian would keep up their silly game to do so if he had to. Until he gained respect, at least. "Anyway, it's fun to see you try to greet all of us with one name."

"Is there a reason you're here?" Hermione said curtly, drawing attention back to herself. Harry used the distraction the shrug Malfoy's arm off of his shoulders and take a step back. Malfoy didn't try to grab him again, simply stuck his hands in his pockets.

Where Gryffindor Hermione was unstylish and plain, Slytherin Hermione was proper and pretty. Her new hair was easier to control and now fell into neater curls, though it was still in its natural, mane like state, and the green of her uniform brought out her new noble features. She still looked like Hermione, but what used to take a bit of effort was now effortless to achieve.

Hadrian himself was smart in his new uniform, the already existing Black features a bit more prominent, and his green eyes practically glowing in comparison to his black hair and porceline skin. He wasn't sure if he minded being less masculine looking, but he didn't hate it. He looked more like his mother, and it was nice to feel closer to her.

"I'm here to escort you to your classes of course." Malfoy replied. "Since as new students you won't know where they are."

"That won't be necessary." Ron and Yaxley strode up, having obviously jogged a bit to get there. Yaxley looked at Malfoy with distaste, and it was obvious there was an animosity there.

"Yax! What a pleasure. I decided to show the newcomers around, it's always nice to make new friends." There was something under his words that made the three time travelers tense. "Especially ones as cute as Black here."

He didn't make any movement to suggest which one of them he was talking about, and it was an admirable move. Now Yaxley would have to struggle to keep an eye on both of them, for he seemed to be just as wary as the others of what Malfoy wanted.

"Yes, well as pleasant as your company is I'm afraid Walaburga is quite fond of them, so it'll be a struggle for them to make time for you and your…friends."

Hadrian made to remember this, as it seemed at least the 5th and 6th year Slytherin's were separated into groups. That was good for them, a united front was harder to find a good foothold in.

The Potions door loomed in front of them, and leaving Malfoy behind the four slipped inside. Much like in their original time, the classroom was divided into two. On one side was Slytherin, where they immedietly found seats. The other, surprisingly, was Ravenclaw. Hadrian supposed before Dumbledore was in charge the rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor was much more subdued.

Hadrian sat with Hermione, while Ron seemed exasperated to have to pair up with Yaxley. It was mostly teasing, but Hadrian knew that all three of them were uncomfortable around others. After the treatment from their peers and constantly pretending to be someone else, they weren't very good at socializing beyond what was necessary for their goals.

Hadrian nearly groaned when the short, plump figure of Professor Slughorn hustled to the front of the class, his round face red and grinning merrily. He looked much worse than Snape, overly friendly and involved.

"Welcome class! Before we start today I would like to greet our transfer students." People who had only glimpsed the three last night turned towards them, more whispers and giggles ringing out. None of them reacted, far too used to the behavior to be affected.

"I am your Potions Professor, Professor Slughorn. And I am greatly looking forward to seeing if any of you are lovers of the craft, eh?" He looked expectantly towards them, but when they did nothing more than give him small, indulgent smiles, he turned back to the class as a whole. "Anywho, today we are brewing the Beffudlement Draught, a fun one. Collect your ingredients and begin on your individual potions. No partners today."

As students rushed to the Supply cupboard Hadrian examined the materials he was given to work with, noting the differences between the ones from his time and these older ones. He was hoping to let the crowd disperse, as he still hated large crowds. Hermione, next to him, waited as well, though Ron could be seen shoving his way through the mass of teens. The Befuddlement Draught was an interesting option to brew, but he was melancholy in preparation for purposly botching it.

Hermione noticed, and grabbed his arm firmly, forcing him to look at her.

"This isn't 1995 Hadrian, and you aren't Harry Potter." She said lowley. "The ritual brought us back here so we could succeed, and that means no more hiding. Let them notice us. Let Riddle, let Dumbledore, let Dippet and all the students. We are not going to cower or play their games any more."

The words hit Hadrian hard, and a new sense of determination filled him, and he suddenly realized he had no path ahead of him any more. No resposibilities beyond what he wanted to do. Hermione's eyes mirrored that back to him, and the two smoothly slid from their seats and set to work.

The chopping and slicing and crushing was soothing, rhythmatic, but it wasn't really his thing. Hermione however, we in her element. Her hair was tied back messily, thick and wild, and her movements were quick and skilled. This option was nothing compared to the poisons she was used to brewing, and while the results of the potion were less satisfying for her Hermione always loved to show off.

Ron, behind them, had a pink sludge murking up his cauldron, and looked very put out. Hadrian snickered, earning himself a glare and a nonverbal stinging hex for his efforts. He sent one back, and was saved from an all out war when the Professor wandered their way to comment on Ron's completely ruined potion.

By the time class was over the classroom was hot and smelled, and Professor Slughorns face was as red as a tomato. He had looked over the other options with dissapointment until he got to Hadrian and Hermione. His face split in half and he cheerfully crowed, "Why, Tom I think you have some competition. Two perfect potions, what talent." He spent another second looking at Hermione's with glee. "Especially you, Miss Black. This is a fine potion, you are very skilled."

They both smiled at him, and Hadrian was high with the feeling of achievement. As everyone filtered out, however, he caught the calculating glare sent his way by Riddle. He wasn't scared, and just stared blankly back until he was swallowed by the crowd.

"I never thought I'd see the day Har-Hadrian bested me at potions. What's next? Astronomy?" Ron complained. Hadrian grinned up at him, while Yaxley, who was trailing behind them, frowned in confusion.

"Your skills were incredibly far apart, how would you have ever bested him at Potions?"

"Back when we were homeschooled, one of our neighbors taught us potions. But I didn't like him, so I purposefully did terrible to annoy him." Hadrian lied easily. "What class is next?"

"History of Magic. Hope you brought something else to do, because I don't think a single student has learned anything from Binns." Yaxley warned, and Hadrian was glad he had brought extra reading materials.

 

"Cousins! How were classes?" Walburga asks, already seated when they arrived in lunch. Hermione, who had taken a shine to Lucretia's feminist movement, sat next to her while Hadrian sat across from Walburga once again. Ron plopped next to him, looking half awake.

"Potions was fun, though the Professor seems to be overly interactive. History of Magic was useless." Hadrian replied, spooning himself up some lunch.

  
Belinda -who refused to be refered to informally as she considered them friends - snorted. "Sluggy's something alright. If you manage to impress him he invited you to him club though, and the connections are useful."

"I believe we may have, but I don't want to be presumptuous."

"Be as presumptuous as you truely believe. Confidence isn't a bad thing, as long as you have the skillset to back it up." Lucretia said firmly, and Hadrian noticed the smudge of dirt on her cheek and the way her hair was pinned back. When he mentioned it, Belinda lit up.

"I'm teaching her Quidditch. Slytherin needs a new Seeker."

"However, I'm terrible. I firmly believe women should be allowed to play, but that doesn't mean I particularly want to."

"Hadrian's a Seeker. A damned good one too." Ron said, around a mouthful of sandwich. Walburga wrinkled her nose at him, and Hermione sent an acid hex his way.

"You should come try out tomorrow night. You'll have to show our Captain, not me." Belinda responded, "Though I think you'll like our pitch even if you don't make the team. It's just beautiful."

"I'm not sure, I wasn't planning on joining the team due to the recent...upheaval of my life." Hadrian hesitated, wanting to be back on a broom but aware that he wasn't in a secure enough place to be drawing that much attention to himself yet. Belinda waved him off.

"That's fine, I understand. But with how bad our back up seeker is, I'm sure the Captain will make an exception if you'd like to join later."

A girl, who Hadrian hadn't notice approach, suddenly places a flower behind Belinda's ear, humming serenely. Belinda scowls and immedietly takes it back out as the girl sits next to her.

"Not as beautiful as you, Goyle." The girl said sweetly. She had dark black hair and wide, kind looking grey eyes with a round face and a widows peak. Her nose was distinctive, upturned and remarkably puggish. A white flower, identical to the one Belinda now held, was stuck behind her own ear, and a gold locket hung from her neck.

"Go away Parkinson, no one invited you." Belinda said, though there was little bite and Parkinson -Hermione's roommate Hadrian recalled- just laughed.

"I wanted to see Hermione. We barely had a chance to talk last night. Anyway, Annabelle and Whitney were being mean to a Gryff girl and I wanted no part of it in case the girl tattles. Father will lower my allowance if I get in another bullying incident." She explained, playing with her hair. She noticed Hadrian and immedietly flutters her lashes at him.

"Hello, you must be Hermione's brother. Hadrian, was it?"

Hadrian held back a grimace, Hermione wasn't lying when she said Parkinson was love-obsessed.

"Camellia, please do not address him with such familiarity. You make a mockery of your name with such rudeness." Walburga interupted, voice colder than Hadrian has ever heard it. Camellia immedietly straightened, and looked over at the older girl ashamed.

"I apologize, Mr. Black, it was horribly rude of me to assume that level of familiarity." She apologized, not looking him in the eye.

"I accept your apology, and ask you refrain from using it again until given permission." Hadrian said, remembering a social rule about this in one of their books. It also had the added bonus of preventing her advances, as he had made it clear he wasn't looking to be that close to her. She seemed nice, and ment nothing by it, but Hadrian wasn't sure he wanted to interact with a silly teen girl.

"Camellia, where's my flower?" Lucretia suddenly asked, smiling teasingly at the girl. Camilla parked up, and smiled. When she winked at Lucretia, the younger girl turned faintly pink.

"I forgot it on my vanity. I'll make sure to bring you one tomorrow. After all, a doll like you deserves to get flowers."

Hadrian smiled slightly at the exchange, but noticed the sad way Walburga looked at her cousin. His heart twisted, and his own smile became bittersweet.

"We really must be off, we have Herbology. We'll we you at lunch." Hadrian said, clearing his throat. Hermione rushed to gather her things, while Ron grabbed one last roll before they left.

All he could think of on the way to the greenhouse was the pained look in Walburga's eyes as she watched her beloved cousin flirt. The times were not kind, and Harry mourned for the girl.


	8. A Brief Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes! Another one! This ones pretty short and simply to explain what's going on in Harry's time. The time travel created two separate timelines and dimensions, meaning nothing Harry does will affect his original timeline.

_**THE BOY GONE MISSING** _

_**By: Rita Skeeter** _

_Dear Readers, I regret to inform you our beloved hero, the 12 year old Harry Potter, has gone missing from Hogwarts. On October 3rd his roomates woke to find two beds empty, the boys who sleep there gone from the school. The other boy, Ronald Westly want missing along with their friend Herminny Granger the same night, and the disappearances are thought to be connected._

_Harry's roomate, Neville Largebottom, told us that the three went missing sometime during the night, as all three set present when students went to bed. They are expected to have gone missing between the hours of midnight and 4am, when another roomate for up to use the restroom and found their beds empty, though he had assumed they were off mischief making._

_Speculation on where they went runs rampant through the schools halls, one student telling me "They likely went to the muggle world to elope, muggles allow those type of relationships". And while everyone's for a theory on where, everyone's stumped on the how. Is Albus Dumbledore's school not as safe and secure as he leads parents to think?_

_Whether the students are out causing mischief or something more sinister is going on, I believe I speak for all of us when I say I want answers on the safety of the school the next generation is being held in._

  
"Albus what is the meaning of this?!" Molly Weasley shrieked, slamming her hands on the desk in front of her. The rest of the Weasley clan stood behind her, in various states of grief and anger. Everyone but Percy, who hadn't visited his family since 'they started that You-Know-Who nonsense'.

"Molly, I assure you that everything possible is being done to find the children and being them back." Albus soothed. He sat calmly behind his desk, eyes twinkling and glasses slipping down his nose. 

"I don't understand, this is nothing like Hermione. Ron maybe, occasionally Harry, but Hermione would never let them leave school grounds. Not with Voldemort on the rise." George spoke up, his twin nodding along.

"We have to consider that Voldemort is moving faster than expected. They couldn't have gotten out without foul play!" Ginny agreed, hands twisting anxiously.

Albus sighed. He had just finished calming Remus and Sirius, both worried sick like mother hens, and was tired of dealing with parents. "I highly doubt that, Miss Weasley. They are very likely off being teenagers, all three have a penchant for adventures and rule breaking. They will be back, safe, eventually, and then we can sit down and have a talk with them."

The youngest three obviously wanted to say something, but Bill and Charlie quickly hearded them out of the office, quietly telling them to shut up. Molly opened her mouth as if to argue, but just huffed instead and grabbed her husband by the arm, dragging him after their children.

Albus sighed, rubbing his temple as worry and anger shot through him in the quiet of his empty office. This was very bad. It was impossible, the way the teens simply vanished from the school without his knowledge. He had placed tracking spells on them immedietly in first year, as soon as Harry chose his friends, that would alert him if they left the building. He usually only checked them when he knew they were likely to be in danger or were undergoing one of his tests, such as First Year, but a loud blaring noise could be heard whenever they left the grounds. Not only had no noise been made, all three trackers were disabled, so he couldnt tell where they were.

There were only two options to what could have happened. Either the three found out about the trackers and found a way to remove them before they left, or someone had removed them when they kidnapped the three. On one hand, the three were on to him and likely untrusting now, or they were in grave danger. Both were horrible for his future plans, and he had to scurry to do damage control.

Albus grabbed lemon drop, laced with calming draught, and shoved it in his mouth. He glared at the far wall, his anger causing his magic to lash out and shake his desk. These damn kids were more trouble than they were worth, and he looked forward to the day he could be done with them. Perhaps they'd die during the final battle, and he'd never have to see their faces again.

  
"They're gone." Blaise said simply, standing in front of Draco, who sat staring pensively out the window. They were in an empty corridor, Draco sitting on a window sill with a book unread on his lap, features scrunched up as he stared out into the grounds.

"It wasn't the Dark Lord. Father and the others have been scrambling to find him as well, he keeps asking me where they could have gone as if I would know." Draco replied to the unasked question. He scowled and turned his head to look up at Blaise, who's face was nearly a blank mask. A hint of curiousity and worry lit up his eyes however, giving away his strange attatchment to the trio.

  
Blaise nodded, the tensness of his body relaxing the slightest bit. "That means they left on their own, and they aren't likely coming back. I fear what they could be doing out there. We've seen first hand what they can do. They're brilliant, and determined."

"They're also batshit crazy." Draco said darkly, his hand clutching an old, worn down gold locket. He thumbed it open to reveal a magically preserved pink camilla petal, and a picture of Pansy Parkinson smiling with her grandmother. Draco watched the picture move for a minute, watched a young Pansy wave to the camera, before he snapped it closed.


	9. Lover Boy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot!! It's finally happening!!

"He's watching you again." Ron said under his breath, hand paused where it was scribbling notes. Hermione made a sound on Ron's other side, but continued with her own.

Hadrian glanced up, and there he was. Riddle, looking like a carved statue, staring directly at him. His quill was held up near his head, and his fingers slowly twirled it back and fourth. A hypnotic rhythm, much like the way Riddle blinked, the only other movement he made. Hadrian refused to get caught in the movements, and though he made eye contact he turned his head before Riddle could slip inside. Tom had told him about that particular talent of his, and Hadrian did not appreciate the attempted violation.

"He does that. I'm afraid I've caught his interest, but mostly it's intimidation. He wants me to either fall in line or become a low level lackie."

Riddle had been watching him, throughout all of yesterday and last night. It was unnerving, in a way, but easy enough to ignore. Despite the way 2/3 of his roommates acted during the day, he was mostly left alone in the room, which he could appreciate.

The Professor, a spindly, tall woman, tapped her wand against her desk to catch their attention, the algorithms on the board stopping. Hadrian set his quill down.

"Partner up and do the work on page 49. For our new students, your partner must be from the other house. I dislike the silly separation the school likes to do."

Ron groaned lowely, but stood to find a person to talk to. Hermione followed, much more comfortable with the idea of mingling. Harry watched a nervous boy immedietly accend upon her, and grinned. He was about to stand to find his own partner, when a hand tapped his shoulder. He twisted in his seat to look up at the Ravenclaw behind him.

The boy slid into Ron's abandoned seat, a smirk on his face and his hand held out for a hand shake. He was geeky, but attractive, with thick dark curls making a mess of his head and thick rimmed glasses. But Hadrian was unsure what to do. If the boy was pureblood, he was supposed to grab his elbow and shake that way, but if he was muggleborn or halfblood he had to give a hand shake. If he did the wrong one, the social repercussions could be vast.

He settled for raising his hand and allowing the boy to initiate. A firm handshake, not a pureblood.

"Isaac Malcom." The boy said simply.

"Hadrian Black."

"Of the most noble Black, yeah I've heard the shtick. I know your cousin Lucy." Malcom commented, smiling as though he thought himself funny. Hadrian tightened his grip on his hand.

"Noble and Ancient Blacks, actually. Did Lucretia give you permission to call her that?" Hadrian said, grin all teeth. Despite his threatening aura, Malcom let out a laugh.

"Yes she did, mama bear. Now, if I could have my hand back, we should really start on our work."

Hadrian released his hand, not sure if he disliked the boy or not. His personality was…irritating. But with an odd bit of charm.

They cracked open their books and each rolled out a bit  
of parchment. It turned out Malcom was a whiz with math, and Hadrian struggled to keep up. Something Malcom was annoyingly smug about.

"Lover boy is looking this way." Malcom said, leaning in close to point out a mistake on Hadrian's paper. Hadrian stiffened briefly, but forced himself to relax. He sent a side eyes glare at Malcom.

"He's not in love with me. I'm not in love with him."

Malcom snorted disbelievingly. "Yeah, whatever you say. I'm not going to judge you. I got my own idiot over there." He pointed to a blonde boy who was working with Ron, though it didn't look like they were getting much work done. Instead, the Ravenclaw seemed to be talking about something else passionately, and was using strange hand gestures.

"Though he's cluelessly in love with some herbology whiz, so mostly I'm lover boy." Malcom said fondly. "He's talking about Dinosaurs, probably scaring the hell out of your friend there too. Out of everything, Dinosaurs are probably the scariest muggle thing."

"Have you seen what they're fighting the war with? Dinosaurs are not the scariest thing in the muggle world." Hadrian said quietly, his voice dark. The mood subdued, and he changed the subject.

"How do you know my cousin?"

"I'm the one to introduce her to the Feminist Movement. I noticed her ideas and opinions and told her about muggle women who felt the same way, she was facinated. Now, since Lucy's old man would disown her if he found out, I order the newsletters she wants." Malcom explained.

"What do you get out of it?" Hadrian asked, curious.

"I get someone to talk Chaos Theory with."

Hadrian let out a surprised laugh, drawing the attention of a few students around them. Malcom smiled, intrigued.

"You've heard of it?"

Hadrian gave him a secretive smile. "Once or twice. But I know a thing or two about chaos."

 

* * *

 

 

Hadrian found, that out of all of his defense teachers, Professor Merrythought was both the craziest and the most qualified.

She wasn't a large woman, or a particularly intimidating woman. She didn't scream Defense teacher, or have large noticeable scars. She was average height and weight, with mousy brown hair tied back and a plain face. But the minute she cleared her throat, the class went silent. Hadrian turned to Ron, amazed. He had only ever seen Snape able to do that, and Snape had ruled his class with an iron fist. Professor Merrythought looked rather pleasent.

"Good Morning class! As most of you know, we're currently in our dueling unit. As for our new comers, I'm afraid that we won't be easing you into it, so I hope you keep up." She gave them pointed looks. "But if you can't manage my class, I'll be happy to go easy on you. In my First Year class."

Ron grinned, and their silence seemed to apease her as she continued. "Today we're going to be dueling blindfolded. After all, there are several curses and hexes out there that can blind you, and you can easily find yourself dueling in a dark area. Your opponent will not go easy on you just because you can't see." She gave the class a terrifying smile, and Hadrian saw several students shiver. They had this class with the HufflePuffs, and though Hadrian doubted that were anything like their stereotypes, they tended to be new to violence.

"Pair up. One of you will be blindfolded, the other will cast the spells. Stick to harmless hexes and spells, most of you will struggle with this and I dont want students ending up in the Hospital Wing."

This was one class where Hadrian would always pair up with Ron. It may seem cruel, for him to consistently pair up with Hermione in classes. As if he was excluding Ron. But Ron was comfortable as an average student, and they wanted to be top of their class. But Hermione was average at combat, and Rob thrives on the chaos of it.

"You put on the blindfold first. See if you've gotten any better at dueling." Hadrian said, tossing the black cloth at his friend. Ron didn't hesitate to put it on, body thrumming with anticipation.

The students were in two lines in an empty side of the room, and there was a good distance between the partners. Hermione was next to Hadrian, partnered up with Parkinson and blindfold free. Parkinson seemed nervous, but was obviously ready for whatever shot her way.

Hadrian turned back to Ron, who was tense and ready to dodge. He wouldnt be casting spells back at Hadrian, just blocking and dodging. Hadrian moved into an offensive stance, and flung his first spell.

Ron had heard him mutter the spell, but wasn't able to tell where it was aimed and was immedietly hit. He let out a bark of laughter, hands grabbing his sides as the tickling hex took affect. He was quick to utter the countercurse, and Hadrian wasted no time in slinging two spells at him, one after the other.

This time, Ron doged the first one, and managed to throw up a shield for the second just before it hit him. He grinned truimphantly, but was knocked back with a spell immedietly after. Hadrian laughed. That's what he got for boasting.

"Don't let your guard down." He called out, letting Ron get to his feet before sending a leg locking hex his way.

Ron scowled, and dodged. They went at this for a few minutes, before Hadrian managed to disarm Ron.

Ron riped the blindfold off in frustration, and stormed to Hadrian. He shoved the cloth into his hands, sweaty and aching. Hadrian smirked, and walked down to Ron's old spot, slipping on the blindfold.

He was submerged in black, the cloth obviously spelled to completely take away sight. But as he was blinded, the noise around him became sharper, clearer. He fell into a defensive posture and raised his wand, searching for Ron's voice in the cacophany.

There.

He swiftly dogged a spell, feeling the magic fly past his left leg. It was close, but Hadrian had fought blind before. Glasses were easy things to lose, and after years of quidditch in the dark and the rain, as well as the dark battle last year, he was well versed in detecting spells.

Another whizzed past his head, second from hitting him. It was a distraction, another spell collided with his shoulder and he knew the impact was going to bruise. He grinned. Three spells, rapid fire. A swift dance of dodging and shields, Ron never letting up. He knew one at a time Hadrian could detect them, but if he just kept throwing them….

Hadrian only was hit twice more, with a hex that must have affected his appearance and a hex that made him twitch uncontrolably. They only set him back a few second, and by the time the spells stopped coming he was panting and smiling like a fool.

What a work out. He lifted the blindfold from his head, wiping some of the sweat there off in the process, to find the room mostly quiet. People were watching him, their own duels abandoned in the process. Professor Merryweather watched him with a calculating look. His first reaction was panic, at having drawn attention to his skills. But Hermione's words rang through his head and he straightened up. No more hiding.

"That was very impressive. You seem like you knew what you were doing." She commented, walking closer to him.

"Ron and I duel often, Professor. I know his style pretty well."

"And I suppose with glasses , you sometimes are left blind. They get knocked off and broken in battle."

"Yes ma'am." He nodded.

"Do you like Defense, Mr. Black?"

He grinned, and truthfully replied, "Defense is my passion, Professor."

Her calculating look melted away into a bright smile, and she clapped him on the shoulder. "Excellent!" She turned to address the staring students. "Since all of you were too busy gawking to do the work yourself, I hope you learned a few things from Mr. Black. Your homework is two feet on why you must duel without sight and why it is helpful to learn, due next class. Dismissed."

Students dispersed, leaving their blindfolds on the from desk and gathering their things. Lunch was next, and Hadrian has worked up an appetite. He attempted to slip down the hall with the students complaining about the homework, but was halted by a firm hand on his arm.

Hermione looked sternly at him, a no nonsense attitude about her.

"Not so fast. I saw your notes, Hadrian. You havent been listening to me."

He wanted to groan. "Hermione…"

"We are spending lunch in the library, correcting this issue." She said finally, dragging him off in the opposite direction. Ron watched them go, conflict warring on his face for a moment before he shrugged and headed to the great hall.

"Hermione my handwriting really isn't that bad..," Hadrian complained as she shoved him in an empty seat. The library was nearly empty during lunch, and Hadrian was sure he'd rather face Riddle than Hermione in her current state.

She set across from him and pulled out parchment and a quill, sliding them over to Hadrian. She pulled out more supplies for herself -Hadrian doesn't question why she had several inkpots and quills in her bag- before leaning in to speak with him.

"Firstly, yes it really is." She gave him a look. "Second, we need to figure out what Riddle wants with you."

Hadrian nodded, resigning himself to his fate. He grabbed the quill, but Hermione grabbed his hand before he could ink it. He watched her fix his fingers into an uncomfortable grop in the quill without complaint, and dunked the quill when she was done.

"I assume he's trying to recruit me for his Death Eaters. I'm not sure why, but he and his followers have been assessing me since the sorting. Malfoy especially had been clingy."

"Malfoys always have had obsessions with you." She commented, before quieting down with a pensive expression on her face. "They aren't Death Eaters. That name was given to them by the media long after Riddle graduated. But they are going to become the first ones, and it might be beneficial to join their ranks." She suggested.

Hadrian shook his head. "Not a chance."

Hermione seemed a bit irritated by his immediate dismissal. "And why not?"

He leaned in, a sharp smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Because I refuse to be a lacky."

Her mouth fell open into a soft O, blinking in surprise. He reached over and grabbed her hand.

" 'Mione, if you think I'm going to spend the next two years under Riddle's rule, you don't know me at all. Riddle has a good circle, but he made a major mistake. And I'm going to benefit off of it."

Her eyes gleamed. "A mistake?"

"Tom Riddle only wants pureblood males. Which leaves a good chunk of potential for us. And I'm going to shape them into something that strikes fear into Riddle's gang's hearts."

  
By the end of lunch Hadrian's handwritting was looking much more presentable, though his hand was cramping. Hermione had walked with him to Magical Theory, but left him at the door to head to Herbology. Hadrian was alone for this class, and walking into the classroom he realised he was also almost late. Almost all of the seats were filled.

Except, of course, a seat right next to Riddle. Hadrian looked at the back of Riddle's head, and then at his followers sitting on the seats around him. The seat was deliberate, and Hadrian was trapped.

Slidding into the seat, he caught sight of a smug smile on Riddle's face. It was gone in an instant, but Hadrian has to resist the urge to flare at the handsome boy.

"I hope you weren't holding this seat for someone." Hadrian said politely, though they both knew better.

"No, feel free." Riddle responded, not looking up from the textbook open in front of him. Hadrian slid open his own textbook and parchment, content to ignore the prefect until he initiated conversation.

Which apparently wasnt until after the lesson was over. The silence irritated Hadrian, putting him more on edge the longer Riddle pretended that he didn't exist. He tapped his quill as the Professor ended the lesson, debating just leaving instead of listening to Riddle's spiel. However, just as he gathered his bag and moved to leave with the rest of the class, Riddle grabbed his arm.

He tensed, fighting the immediate instinct to jerk away and cursing him bloody. He forced himself to relax, though the look on Riddle's face told him that it had not gone unnoticed.

"Excuse me?" Hadrian said, polite even as he stared coldly up at him. Riddle smiled though, sharp and smug.

"I was hoping we could talk, Black."

"It couldn't wait until tonight?"

"I felt it was best to do it away from our room. Put you more at ease." Riddle explained smoothly. "I was afraid you'd feel cornered."

Hadrian glanced around at the Slytherins loitering around them. Riddle's followers, surrounding the pair and keeping look out. He definitely doesnt feel cornered at all.

Riddle continued. "I've been watching you-"

"I noticed."

"-and I've found myself impressed. You're very powerful, and you know what you're doing. And though you insist on hanging out with a bunch of girls, you are obviously intelligent and capable. I could use someone like you in my group." Riddle paused, grey eyes searching Hadrian's face. "A political group. We're intent on changing the wizarding world for the better, and in the process dealing with the…pest problem. If you join us, I promise the reward is great."

His short speech has roused a few of the people around them, most noticeably Lestrange, who's grin was nothing short of sinister. But Hadrian was bored, and very uninterested.

"No thank you." He said blandly. Riddle's eyes widened, and his group was noticeably shocked.

"Excuse me?" He hissed, words verging on shifting into parsletongue. Hadrian didn't flinch, even though Riddle's grip on his arm had tightened and dragged him closer.

"I decline your offer. I'm not keen on spending the rest of my life kneeling at your feet. I'm sure you understand." Hadrian said steadily, tugging his arm loose. He swung his bag over his shoulder and turned to walk away.

Lestrange and Avery moved as if to block him, but something over his shoulder had them reluctantly relaxing and letting him through.

Hadrian left the classroom without looking back, mind racing. This wasn't the end, Riddle was nothing if persistant. But soon he's realize Hadrian was an enemy. Riddle was smart, and their interactions would soon be dangerous as they competed for the throne.


	10. Quidditch, Chess, and Mind Games

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, updating more frequently than once a month? You better believe it. Hope you like this chapter, feel free to comment suggestions on writing or plot, or just to tell me what you think.

With classes done for the day, Hadrian stopped into his room to drop off his bookbag. None of his roomates were there, Riddle had likely called a meeting. Hermione, however, was in the common room curled up by the fire.

To most it would look like she was daydreaming, homework half finished in front of her and head propped up in her hand. But Hadrian saw the way her eyes watched the students milling around, and knew she was gathering information. He walked up behind her chair, resting his forearms on the back.

"How was class?" Hermione asked, still focused on a group of giggling fourth years.

"Riddle knows my stance on joining his cult. We need information and support quickly. Right now we have the upper hand, but that could change in an instant."

Hermione looked over her shoulder at him, surprised. "He's approached you already? It's only been a week. We should have had more time."

"Our showing off in class has impressed him. Enough that he didnt need to spend any more time debating my worth."

She muttered a curse, fingers tapping against her knee. "We need to move in on Walburga and her group then, though I'd hoped for some time to ease our way into the circle naturally."

"We can start by getting closer to them, we just need to rush through the friendship bit." Hadrian said, just as pleased as her. "Where are they?"

"Slytherin has quidditch practice. Walburga and Lucretia are watching Belinda practice."

"And Adney?"

"Somewhere with Ron I believe. Ron says he's glad to finally have a male to hang out with that isn't Cygnus."

Hadrian nodded, filing that information away for later. He said goodbye to Hermione and grabbed his scarf and cloak quick from his room before hurrying off to the pitch.

It was windy out, a chilling breeze tugging at his scarf and hair as he hurried down to the pitch. The sun was blocked by fluffy grey clouds, and the only color seemed to come from the vibrant fall leaves underfoot. Fall was Hadrian's favorite season, and the weather managed to lift his spirits a bit after all the drama. It seemed the pitch had a way of making his problems seem far away, even when he wasn't on a broom.

He spotted Lucretia's short hair before anything else, both girls wrapped tight in their own scarves and non-uniform cloaks. They weren't seated in the stands, instead they stood and watched from a grassy area nearby.

"Hadrian, what a surprise. We weren't expecting you to join us." Walburga said, looking surprised to see him. Lucretia waved from her side, cheeks and ears flushed as pink as Walburga's lipstick.

"I wanted to come spend time with my favorite cousins. Am I intruding? I can head back." Hadrian said, smiling charmingly.

"You're welcome to join us! I, for one, enjoy your company." Lucretia piped up. She seemed to be in a good mood.

"We're just watching the practice. Belinda and Cygnus like the support, and I like the chance to get out of the castle now and then." Walburga said, bringing the old fashioned omnioculars up to her face. Her curls were the messiest he'd ever seen them, and the dusty grey cloak she wore made her own pink cheeks even more dramatic.

"I do enjoy quidditch. I used to play Seeker, you know."

"For your neighborhoods team?" Lucretia asked.

Hadrian paused, but only for a moment. "Yes. We were a pretty good team, won more matches than we lost."

"Perhaps you should try out for the Slytherin team. We could use a better Seeker."

He hummed, noncommital. "Maybe."

They lapsed into silence for a few moments, the girls watching the practice through their shiny omnioculars. Hadrian watched the vague shape he believed was Belinda hurl bludgers at the opposing players, and decided he was glad she was on their team.

"I know you two aren't very interested in Quidditch. What do you like to do?" He asked, when the quiet became too much for him. He had come down to get to know the girls, to become their friend. Not to watch Belinda murder her teammates.

They both seemed surprised by the question.

"I like to embroider…and play the piano. I read a bit, and play a bit of chess. Normal things, I suppose." Walburga responded, looking as if she was struggling to come up with hobbies. He supposed she spent most of her time conversating.

"I like to sing and dance. I read a lot. I do a fair bit of writing, when I'm not swamped in homework." Lucretia commented.

"Those are nice. Are you any good at singing and dancing?" Hadrian teased. Lucretia blushed, fiddling with the clasp of her cloak.

"I..well..what about you? What do you do for fun?" She deflected. Walburga laughed.

"I'm that strange teenager who likes to learn and read. I find magic fascinating, and spend a good amount of time studying and practicing it." He paused, attention being caught by a player nearly being knocked off their broom.

"But surely you have hobbies?" Lucretia pressed.

"I play Quidditch, and some chess. I know how to garden and cook." He lists absent-mindedly. Then he softens a bit, a warm smile appearing. "I paint. Not often, but I think it's what I most enjoy to do."

The girls gazed at him, surprised. The sun was setting around them, painting the scene in a pleasent glow, and the wind blew their hair around. Hadrian could see the gold glow of the snitch near the ground, and felt the urge to grab it.

"You know, Hadrian, Walburga took Magical Art last year." Lucrative started, tone ringing with mischief. Walburga stiffened, looking at her cousin with horror.

"She joined because a boy she fancied was in it. Head over heels, she tried to paint a picture of the place they met. Now, she was just terrible, but the funniest part is when casting the spell to enchant it-"

"Lucretia!" Walburga screeched, losing her composure fully for the first time since Hadrian has met her. She flung herself at the smaller girl, wrapping herself around her and attempting to cover her mouth.

"-she messed up the spell and spent a week with a painting that looks like a 5 year old made it moving across her skin!" Lucretia finished, giggling like mad as she struggled in Walburga's hold. Hadrian laughed at their antics, enjoying the carefree expressions on their faces. Walburba was as red as a Gryffindor, but he could see the moment her Slytherin showed up.

"Fine. Cousin, did you know that the first time Lucretia here met the Minister of Magic she was in her bright blue sleep robes, with curlers in her hair and drool dried on her chin?" Walburga told Hadrian, speaking conversationally despite her wicked from giving her away. Lucretia squacked, hitting Walburga who held her tightly.

"And the very first words out of her mouth were 'Mother, the knockers are stealing my undergarments again'!"

"Its was right after I had woken up, and I was 13!" Lucretia cried, struggling harder in Walburga's grip.

The girls lightly wrestled for a minute, bickering as they shoved and punched and hit. However Lucretia shoved too hard when Walburga went to tickle her, and the elder girl stumbled back and fell. It wasn't a big deal, until Hadrian caught sight of the bludger speeding right towards her.

Lucretia spotted it right after he did, and let out a piercing scream that alerted Walburga something was wrong. She opened her mouth to scream as well, but was interrupted when Hadrian's body reacted to years of life threatening situations and dived on top of her. The momentum rolled them a few inches, the tumble knocking the breath out of both of them and pressing them flush together.

It wasn't enough to completely avoid the bludger, and for the second time in his life Hadrian felt all the bones in his arm shatter as the round ball from hell slammed into the outstretched limb.

He didn't scream, just let out a hissed breath and squeezed his eyes shut tight. The pain lit up the nerves of his entire right side, blistering and throbbing. It hurt more than any belt or cut, but didn't come close to the pain of basilisk venom or the agony of a crucio.

Lucretia was on him in a second, shouting his name and speaking a mile a minute as she pulled him back into a sitting position. The Slytherin team had landed, and most of them were clamoring to get closer, the racket of their speech giving Hadrian the start of a migrane. Belinda was chewing out the other beater, a scrawny looking guy, and waving her bat at him in a way that caused the guy to break out in a cold sweat. But all of this was blurry, fadding in and out as the pain sent his body into a shock. With no adrenaline to keep him moving, Hadrian passed out.

 

* * *

 

  
The Slytherin common room had been boisterous and loud, as it apparently was on most Friday nights, so Ron immedietly retired to his room when he came back from the library. Adney trailed behind him, nose in a book on the mermaid rebellions.

The room was quiet, as usual. Ron had found that the boys he was roomed with were easily described with one word -boring. And he was becoming restless, two weeks the longest had ever gone without performing a ritual or a small blood sacrifice. Everything about him itched, and his mind craved the stimulation he wasn't receiving. So Ron carelessly dropped the books he had checked out onto his side table with a heavy thud, and turned on Adney.

"Do you play chess?" He asked out of the blue. Adney looked up, looking both disorientated and a bit irritated at being interupted. But they melted into interest, and the book was snapped shut.

"Yes, actually. I am a part of the schools chess club, even." He replied, setting his own books in his area. Ron shucked the stiff black robes and the grey sweater underneath, loosening his tie one-handed as he opened the drawer on his side table.

"Fancy a game?"

Armey easily agreed, neatly hanging up his own robes though he left everything else in place. Ron grinned, consciously toning down the excitement he knew bled through. Ron had a bad habit of coming off a little…unhinged. He pulled his chess set out of the drawer and shut it with his hip, moving to sit at the table near the corner of the room. The Slytherin dorms were crazily large.

They sat and set up the game, quiet as the first moves were done. Chatter drifted in from the slightly open door, a backdrop for the game.

The atmosphere was falsely relaxed, Adney's fingers tapping against the table as he expertly ordered his pieces around. Ron kept up with him easily, tension seeping from his body as the moves got tougher and tougher.

Finally, when Adney took over two minutes to make a move, Ron spoke.

"It's getting close to the end of the month. Does Hogwarts celebrate Samhain? Or another holiday?" He asked.

Adney seemed surprised at the question. "We have a Samhain feast, yes. And the diviniation professor leads a remembrance and cleansing ritual. I hear the Hufflepuffs hold a ritual for luck in the year to come where they write down dreams and wishes and stick them in a jar with glitter and fairydust. Why?"

"That sounds…boring." Ron pretended to yawn, praying his intuition wasn'tgoing to lead him into trouble. "What about the dark families?" He leans in to ask, pitching his voice low. Adney straightened like he had been struck by lighting, watching Ron curiously.

"What are you looking for?"

"Something a bit more..bloody. My friends and I do a ritual every year where we invoke Botus, the God of all things past and future. It's a wonderfull ritual, and the knowledge he gives us…" Ron paused to compose himself, magic thrumming under his skin. He took a deep breath. "It's much more fun than that hope and mourning shite."

"It's much more Illegal." Armey commented, though his voice was bland.

Ron smiled, teeth peaking out from his lips. "My best mates are Black's."

"As are mine." He leaned back in his chair. "Are we invited?"

"Of course. Don't go spreading the invite though." Ron ran his hand through his haie eyes flicking back to the chess board.

"I'd never. Knight to H3."

Ron watched idly as the delicately carved knight slid across the board, before declaring. "Checkmate."

The look on Adney's face was nearly better than winning.

 

* * *

 

  
Hermione slipped through the halls, robes sweeping behind her as she searched. There. She quietly approached the pair standing under an archway, the permanent silencing charm on her shoes killing any footsteps that would otherwise echo in the empty hallway.

Malfoy was leaned against the wall, robe missing and hair disheveled. He was talking to a younger Slytherin, a boy with reddish hair and the ugliest nose Hermione had ever seen, and she had Snape as a teacher for over 4 years.

  
"Malfoy!" She called as she needed him, schooling her expression into something pleasent. Malfoy looked a bit startled to see her, and was obviously confused on why she was speak in to him. She made sure not to look in his eye, etiquette rushing through her head.

"Black. To what do I owe the pleasure."

"Hadrian is looking for you. He says he feels he acted to rashly earlier and feels most comfortable speaking to you." She said, ducking her head a bit bashfully and smiling. Malfoy lit up, and she resisted the urge to gag.

"We'll continue this later, Killinger." Malfoy dissmised the younger boy, and the kid did a clumsy now before scurrying off. He then turned to her.

"I'd be happy to speak to Hadrian. A were all disappointed when he shotbus down so quickly." He gestured for her to lead the way, following a little behind her as the started moving. Hermione glanced over her shoulder, pretending to make sure he was following her as she silently cast a compulsion charm on him.

Hermione led him down the twisting hallways to a secluded spot in a dead end. Malfoy was grinning, eyes glazed and unfocused. Hermione reached up and tilted his head gently, forcing him to look in her eyes. Malfoy, underestimating her, had left all his mental blocks down, and it was easy to skip inside his mind. With some delicate spellwork Malfoy was now certain he was speaking to Hadrian, and the gentle persuasion of her magic urged him to be honest and straightforward.

"Malfoy, I'm afraid I made an uneducated decision earlier. It's just that I'm not keen on joining an organization I know nothing about. Can you explain it to me?" She asked, staring into his foggy grey eyes. Malfoy smiled, and moved closer to her, putting on the charm. She fought a grimace.

"Of course. Whatever you want to know."

"What's the name of your group?" She asked, lacing curiosity into her voice.

"We're called the Knights of Walpurgis. The names a bit silly, but Riddle chose it."

She hummed. "Does Riddle make a lot of the decisions?"

Malfoy hesitated, and she pressed her magic against him more firmly.

"Riddle makes all the decisions. It's his group after all. He's our Lord, and we are his loyal followers." Malfoy said, charm melting into something more serious. The hallway wasn't well lit, and the shadows cast over them made him look sinister.

"How long have you been around? The Knights I mean."

"Only about a year. We formed when Riddle found out about his ancestry."

Hermione paused, thinking about any information she needed. "What are your goals?"

She already had a pretty good idea, but seeing what the goals were before Voldemort lost his sanity would be enlightening.

"The subjugation or eradication of muggles, integration of muggleborns, and an upheavel of the Ministry and education system. We shouldn't be hidding, and when my Lord takes control of the Ministry we wont have to. We will free daek magic and creatures and establish our dominance in blood and magic." Malfoy grew more eager as he went on, a feverent madness seeping through his disorientated state. Hermione wasn't impressed, but took note of his words.

"And what are you currently doing to achieve this?"

"Educating others and younger purebloods, making connections, studying laws. My Lord is insistant that the best way to get what we want is convince others we are right. But most of everything is on hold."

Hermione leaned closer, face inches from him and eyes alight with curiosity. "Why?" She whispered.

"Riddle is looking for something. He won't tell us what it is but he's obsessed. Spends ages searching the school and shaking down information."

Hermione smiled, decievingly angelic, and Malfoy stared, caught firmly in her web. Her soft grip on his face tightened, nails sharply digging into his skin. He flinched, but didn't pull away as she lovingly murmered, "Obliviate."

It wasn't hard to convince a dazed Malfoy to walk back to the common room and ignore anything strange about the encounter. Anyone else skilled in mind magics would be able to break these spells, but no one would be able to break the obliviate or find any trace of her. She'd had lots of time and occasions to practice.

She herself hurried back, distracted and mullying over the information she recieved. Riddle was looking for the Chamber, that much was clear. But she was unsure how close he was, unable to remember the dates of the attacks. Either way, she had to inform Hadrian so he could come up with their next move.

Halfway down the dungeons she's intercepted by a sweaty and out of breath Slytherin, dressed in quidditch robes and ruddy in the face.

"Hadrian Black is in the infirmary and requesting you!" The kid panted, leaning against the wall. She didn't pause to thank him or ask further questions, immedietly spinning on heel and taking off. This was far too familiar to her, and she decided that visiting Hadrian in the Infirmary needed to stop happening this frequently. She was barely worried about him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact, in the original plan to the chapter Hadrian wasn't hurt. But I'm an author controlled by spontaneous whims.


	11. Moving Forward

"Really, Miss, It's not that bad." Hadrian insisted, attempting to be charming. The healer, a young woman who towered over a good amount of students, pursed her carefully painted lips.

"Mr. Black you came in with a shattered arm. Despite the bones now being whole, they are still fragile and sore. You will stay overnight and that's the end of it!" Madame June smoothed down her skirts and turned to the small crowd of muddy quidditch players and a small group of composed Blacks.

"I must insist those of you who are messy to say a quick goodbye and leave. I will not have you dirtying an area that holds wounded students!" She said firmly. When she got a few murmered agreements, she spun on heel and left to her office, poofy uniform skirts swishing behind her. As soon as her door clicked shut, a few of the slytherin team were on him. All of them were messy, covered in dirt and grass stains from warm up and hair a positive mess from the wind.

Barnaby Travers, the quidditch captain, stepped forward. He was an average boy with dirty blond hair and a round face, a 7th year if Hadrian remembered.

"I just wanted to apologize on behalf of the quidditch team for your injury. The bludger never goes that low, otherwise we would have warned you." He said, friendly. Hadrian returns his smile.

"Apology accepted, no harm done. We were the ones foolishly standing inside the wards. I hope you accept my own apologies, for interupting your practice." Hadrian replied, mind racing through etiquette books. The acceptance of the apology was necessary, the casual comments were allowed, and the return apology was polite. Travers accepted his apology, and hustled his team out of the steril white room. Standing near the edges were Walburga, Lucretia, Cygnus, and another Black he didn't recognize. Walburga scrunched up her nose at the mess the rowdy team left, lazily waving her wand and casting a cleaning charm. Cygnus lead the small group over to Hadrian's bedside.

"Hello, Cygnus. It's a pleasure to see you again, you are a great flyer by the way." Hadrian commented, shifting where he was sitting on the bed. The light green blankets covered his legs, and his arm was in a sling to keep him from accidentally using it. Cygnus sat primly in the chair next to the bed, the unknown Black standing behind him while the girls sat neatly at the end of his bed. Both girls had obviously been crying, and Walburga was almost visibly shaken. Cygnus's posture screamed business.

"Hadrian Ignotus Black, today you have done a significant act. You've saved my sister's life, at your own harm." Cygnus's eyes were piercing, his heir ring glinting on his hand. Hadrian remained quiet.

"Normally our family would pledge a alliance with yours, along with the life debt my sister now owes you. However, as you are our own blood, I have decided to give you a favor. Anything you wish."

There's silence for a few moments, before Hadrian repectfully bowed his head. It took him a moment to remember too, and hoped everyone would just think he had been processing. "I gratefully accept, Heir Black. However, I hope you understand that I did it willingly and would do it again."

Walburga's breath hitched, and she grabbed Hadrian's unharmed hand. She was obviously overcome with feelings, to allow her mask to slip like this. He could see Cygnus smiling slightly out of the corner of his eye, and felt a pang as he understood these people were family. More important, they were family he could be himself with.

The group stood, and the unknown Black came forward. He was loose and relaxed, long black hair that fell to his shoulders and a twinkle in his eye that reminded Hadrian of Sirius. The boy held out his arm.

"Alphonse Black, Cygnus and Walburga's brother. It's a pleasure to meet you, and my apologies for not meeting you sooner. I sit with my friends at the Ravenclaw table during meals, you see."

Hadrian firmly gripped Alphonse's elbow, giving it the slightest shake. "Hadrian Black, Hermione Black's brother and your cousin. I accept your apology, and hope to see you again soon."

Then they were sweeping out of the room, though Hadrian managed to call out to Lucretia before she left.

"Wait! Can you send someone to find my sister? If she has to find out after I get out she'll have my head." He asked, sheepishly. Lucretia smiled, humorously.

"I'll send for her. Good day cousin."

 

* * *

 

  
By the time Hermione arrived, Madame June had checked on him and given him another dose of pain potions despite his insistance he was fine. She looked bored and vaguely irritated, sweeping in with the practiced grace she had been hammering into them. Her magic was less controlled than usual, Hadrian could feel it whipping around her.

" _There's_ my sister. I was starting to think you'd never come." Hadrian grinned, though Hermione didn't mirror it. She sat down on the bottom of his bed much like the girls had, and surveyed his appearence.

"What have you done now?"

"Shattered my arm. Bludger accident." He said casually. She made a small huff, and promptly reached over and hit him in his uninjured arm.

" _Hey_! Injured here!"

"You aren't even in Quidditch, really. Perhaps Blaise was right, you are a trouble magnet."

Hadrian let out a short laugh, enjoying the put out look on her face.

"Since we've established you're okay, I have news." She said, cutting off the lighthearted banter. Both slipped into serious mode, straightening up and casting silencing charms.

"Go on."

"I have that information you wanted. I took it from Malfoy, as he was the easiest to get alone and the least suspicious." She began, adjusting her robe across her lap.

"And?"

"He doesn't remember a thing, though he sang like a bird. Riddle's group is called the Knights of Walapurgis, pretentious I know. They have most of the same views, murder all muggles, segregate the mugglebornes. They aren't very far but they're only 16, and Riddle had out a pause on their plans." She listed, all business.

"Pause?" He asked, curious.

"He's searching for the Chamber and his family ties. I don't know how successful he is in either, so we need to know what were doing."

Hadrian's eyebrows launched up, surprise filling him. The chamber, of course! Riddle opened it his 5th year, though he had no idea when. That ment he hadn't made his first horocrux yet, may not even know about them at all. He thought for a while, both of them lapsing into silence.

Releasing the Basilisk would not be a good thing to allow to happen. Fingers would likely be pointed at them as they're the newcomers, and the restrictions and rules of a threatened Hogwarts would have negative effects on their goals. Also, Hadrian would rather not find out if Hermione was now safe. So he would have to stop that..but how?

"We have to make sure it doesn't open. I'll go down to the Chambers and attempt to reason with the basilisk. Perhaps if I arrive first, I can win its loyalty." Hadrian finally decided, fingers drumming against his thigh. Hermione nodded, obviously thinking.

"And if you can't?"

"I've killed it before."

 

* * *

 

  
Hermione left when Madame June decided he needed to rest, promising to inform Ron and gather more information. The pain potions were catching up to him, and he was dozing lightly after eating dinner when his peace was again interupted.

Dumbledore sat at his bedside, smiling kindly and playing with a box of Bertie Botts. It was oddly reminiscent of his first trip to the hospital wing, and if not for the youthful appearance of the professor and the differences in the room, he might think he was back there.

"Mr. Black. It's good to finally meet you personally, I haven't been able to speak to you during class. I've heard from the other teachers that you and your sister are excelling beyond my class." Dumbledore said, his voice lacking some of the rasp and weakness he was used to. The grey streaked red of his hair and beard were by far the weirdest to see.

"I enjoy learning." Hadrian said shortly, struggling to come off as uninterested and polite when really all he wanted to do was..well It was enough to get the Kiss. Several times.

"That is a great attitude to have. One many students don't share."

He had a feeling idle chatter could go on for a while.

"I'm sorry, Professor, but may I ask why you are here?" He asked bluntly. Dumbledore seemed taken aback. He waited patiently as the old man gathered his composure.

"I simply wanted to see how you were doing. Putting yourself in danger for the sake of another student was a wonderfully heroic thing to do. It reminds me of a student I used to have, a Potter." Dumbledore adds, conversationally. Hadrian suddenly knew where this was going.

"You're father was a Potter, correct? A great family, very warm and welcoming. Have you ever met your relatives?"

Hadrian couldn't decide whether the whir of minutes in spells, the endless ticking of the clock, or Dumbledore's obnoxious voice were worse.

"I've met nearly all my cousins." Hadrian responded, pretending not to know Dumbledore ment his 'light' relatives.

"And the Potters?" Dumbledore pushed.

"No. They stopped talking to my father after the marriage."

"Perhaps you should teach out, my boy-"

Hadrian interupted him, anger mounting. What had been simmering under the surface boiled over, triggered by that word. "Please do not call me that. No offense ment, Professor, but it's presumptive to treat me so familiar when this is the first time we've met." His tone was sharp and left no room for further friendliness. "And as you aren't the head of my house, and we aren't close, I wonder why you have decided to sit at my bedside and question me."

There's silence for a moment, Dumbledore's expression patronizing and falsely kind though his eyes were calculating. "With a heroic action like you've done, you could have been one of my lions. Most Slytherin's would not have done what you did, Mr. Black."

The old man was reaching, and it was pathetic.

"I realize I haven't been here long, Professor Dumbledore, but your lions aren't the only brave ones. Everyone has the capability to be brave and heroic, just as everyone can be smart and loyal and ambitious. But that doesn't make them any less of their house, just as I am no less of a Slytherin. And really, as a Gryffindor, what do you know about Slytherins?"

Madame June bustled out then, ending the tense conversation. She shooed Dumbledore from the infirmary, yelling about disturbing her patients. It was quite amusing, until she turned to him with her hands on her hips.

 

* * *

 

  
There was perfect silence, barely the sound of breathing interrupting the stillness of the room. It was a dusty, abandoned classroom with a sleek wooden table in the center. Tom Riddle sat at the front of the table, long legs gracefully crossed and hands resting on the arm rest. He gazed impassively at his Knights, who were sitting ramrod straight in their own chairs, waiting for the meeting to begin.

Nott looked ready to sweat under Tom's gaze, a sharp contrast to the bored expression on Rosier's face across from him and the positively bloodthirsty look on Lestrange's. Deciding the silence had gone in long enough, Tom began.

"In our last meeting you were informed of Hadrian Black's potential, and my decision to have him join as our 7th. However," Tom paused, fingers clenching into the arm rests, his jaw tightening. "Black has refused. At first, I was unable to understand why. But the more I watch him, the more strange he appears. This meeting I want any _strange_ behavior you've seen. Perhaps we can get to the bottom of this."

There's quiet for a moment, before Tom lazily waved his hand to prompt them to begin. Rosier, his right hand man, started.

"Black is advanced in his studies, beyond what you would assume from him considering he was tutored. He seems to have no trouble assimilating to actual classes, My Lord."

Tom nodded, showing he heard Rosier. He gazed off into the distance, pensive.

"He knows his way around the castle like he's lived here for years. I've seen him use hidden passages, navigate the moving staircase like a pro, and navigate the Slytherin dungeons half asleep." Nott piped up. Several heads nodded.

"I saw him greet a portrait by name the other day. She was baffled that he knew her." Avery added.

"This could be explained away as him wandering the halls often. It's odd, surely, but what else?" Tom interrupted, impatient. He filed that fact away to observe later.

"My Lord, The three of them recently lost their parents. Two weeks ago, actually." Malfoy began, heisitant. When the intense gray eyes swivled to state into his own, he elaborated. "They don't seem to be in mourning. They don't even appear upset, as if they've moved on by the time they arrived at Hogwarts. From the close relationship they've described, shouldn't they be visably distraught?"

"Good point Malfoy." Tom purred, the boy gracefully shifting positions to lean over the table. "I hadn't noticed that."

Proud to have pleased his Lord, Malfoy seemed to straighten farther, into a confident stance.

"He's a fighter." Lestrange suddenly said, staring intently at Tom. Tom's head whipsped over to look at Lestrange.

"Explain." He demanded, glad someone else had picked up on this tidbit. Lestrange's eyes positively glowed, his smile lopsided and disconcerting.

"Black holds himself tall, wand in easy reach and eyes constantly watching his suroundings. Like he's always expecting an attack. He almost always sits in places he can see all the exits and the majority of the room."

Tom grinned, a strange sight for his followers. "Exactly. Black maps out his exits when he enters a room, did you notice that? He's also exceptional at dueling, Professor Merrythought admitted to me that she's only seen aurors duel like that. Add this up with his sudden appearance, and the strong magic on his bed, and I believe dear Black has a secret."

"Is he a threat my Lord?" Orion Black asked, hands clenched into his robes.

"What do you mean?"

"It's just…it seems he's building his own inner circle. My Lord."

Tom laughed, a cold, amused sound that sent shivers down all of their spines. He leaned casually back in his chair, all the ease of a powerful king.

"An _inner circle?_ Really Black, I don't care how highly you think of you're cousins, they're still _women_. Hadrian Black has surrounded himself with a bunch of girls, a lazy halfwit, and the meek Yaxley scoin. Even if he were attempting to build a _circle_ I'm hardly afraid." A few of the others chuckled, but Black still looked worried. Rosier gazed into the distance thoughtfully.

"Now, your orders. Rosier, Lestrange, I want you to get closer to Black. Perhaps he's hesitant to join because he doesn't know us. Convince him of our vision."

"Yes, My Lord."

"Avery, Nott, Black's sister is becoming a nuisance in class. While I doubt my standing of first in our year is going to be threatened, I don't like her easily becoming second. Distract her, ruin her notes, give her false information, I don't care. Just do something."

"Yes, My Lord."

"Black, continue spreading our message to the younger years. It's imperative we influence them before they gain their own opinion."

"Yes, My Lord."

"And Malfoy. Continue doing what you do best, making connections. You'll be graduating next year, and we need you in the ministry."

"Yes, My Lord."

"Dismissed."

They filed out, silent, and Tom was left with his thoughts. Hadrian Black was smart, powerful, cautious. But he was also defiant and prideful, the fearless look on his face when he told Tom Riddle 'no thanks'…it was beautiful and made Tom want to spill blood. But he would not, because winning Black over would be worth it. Tom smirked, a dangerous look crossing his angelic features.

Black will soon learn everyone kneels before Tom. Whether they want to or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Switched Lestrange's and Malfoy' s age for plot reasons.


	12. Samhain Blood Visions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: Blood, animal death, dark rituals, torture, character death, slut-shaming, Tom being a DICK, Lestrange being a BIGGER DICK
> 
> Hope you enjoy this chapter, sorry for the wait!

The 40's were strange, and there was a very obvious sense of not belonging. From knowing things that don't exist yet to having no ties, Hadrian had to admit what really hammered it home was the clothes. Getting dressed Saturday morning was strange, as he was used to baggy jeans and cheap shirts. Instead, he pulled on charcoal grey trousers, a white button up, and a soft cashmere pullover in a dark forest green. Instead of ratty sneakers he had gleaming black oxfords, and a fairly nice watch tested in his wrist. He looked good, he thought.

Of course, if he thought getting dressed was strange, seeing Mione and Ron was stranger. Hermione was a vision with pinned back hair and soft makeup, a white blouse with a peterpan collar covered by a waist high a-line skirt in a deep violet that matched her skintone well. Black heeled ankle boots gave her a boost of height, and white stockings covered any skin the skirt didnt. Ron was dressed in a blue pinstriped button up, black trousers, and his hair was slicked back neatly.

"Looking good, 'Mione. Perhaps I should lock you in your room, you're sure to draw attention from boys now." Hadrian grinned, gesturing for her to do a spin. She laughed delightedly, twirling for him slowely.

"Camilla helped me with my hair and makeup, said I was hopeless at it. Isadora laughed at me the whole time, but I'll get her back."

A girl appeared behind Hermione, and Hadrian was startled by her appearence. The girl was short with inky black hair straight as a board, her pale skin paler against the deep purple of her lips, and her eyes were nearly black with blue bags. Her nails were long and sharp, painted black, and her thin neck was covered by a black satin choker with a bright blue jem in it. She was positively gothic, her long dress black with Black lace, and when she smiled it sent chills down his spine. Her eyes found his, as she kindly said, "You're sweater looks dashing with your eyes."

Hadrian blinked, before thanking her. Hermione smiled down at the girl, and Ron looked uncomfortable. Ron moved his gaze to the book clutch in her spidery fingers.

"What's that?" He asked, shoving his hands in his pockets. She gazed at him, and he paled, freckles standing stark against his bloodless skin.

"A wizarding novel. It's about a necromancer, who falls in love with a wizard dying from smallpox. She brings him back after he dies, but deep down at knows that the vessel she brings back only had a shadow of him left in it. It's a tragedy, but all good stories are." She explained, tracing the words in the cover fondly. Ron looked creeped out, but Hadrian understood.

"Isadora, don't you have a detention to get to?" Hermione gently reminded the girl, who rolled her eyes and left.

They made their way down the hall into the common room, which was nearly empty due to the early time. Hadrian took a seat next to the constantly roaring fireplace, on a couch that was much softer than it looked. Hermione sat next to him, dark skin illuminated beautifully in the flickering firelight, while Ron slouched in a chair across from them.

"She was interesting." Ron said, a bit meanly, as he stuck his foot up on the table. Hermione forced it off, glaring at him.

"I am _not_ happy with you Ronald, so don't press your luck." She said darkly. Ron held up his hands defensively, looking gobsmacked.

"What did I do?!" He asked, and Hadrian smirked. That was not a smart tone to give an angry 'Mione. Sure enough, she whacked him, scowling.

"Acted like a _bloody Gryffindor_ , that's what! Do you realize how stupid it was to bluntly ask Yaxley if he wanted to join our _illegal_ celebration?!" She hissed, leaning into his space.

"It worked, didn't it? Merlin's balls, Hermione, I got them to join what more so you want?!"

Hermione whacked him again, and they bicker for a moment. Hadrian sweeped his eyes over the nearly empty common room, eyes drawn to the omunious dark shapes that swam past the window. When he heard them quiet down, he turned back to his friends, ready to discuss their next moves.

"The ritual is in a week, what supplies are we going to need?" Hadrian asked, resting his cheek against his fist. Hermione settled back into her seat, digging up a pad and quill from her bag.

"We'll need all the candles, the oils, a ritual knife, a sacrifice, and somewhere to do this." She read off, twirling the quill's feather across her cheek. Hadrian thought, knowing that the ingredients would be rarely easy to find. The place and an apropriate sacrafice would be harder. He slid his gaze over to Ron.

"Check out the ROR for the place. And find a sacrifice from the forest. Hermione, get the ingredients." He ordered.

"And what will you be doing?" Ron asked.

"I have to decide my action towards the Basilisk. I need to feed her and gain her trust without endangering any of the stu-"

They all quiet down when they hear the phrase 'filthy muggles', turning to find Orion Black chatting with a few first years. Orion was scowling, and the younger kids hung off of his every word with awe. The pure slander and lies coming out of his mouth was awful, and Hermione was about to cut in when a blur bounced down on a chair next to Hadrian.

It was Lucretia, dressed in loose trousers and a rich brown blouse with a bow tied through the collar. She's barefoot and beaming, leaning over the arm of the chair to speak to Hadrian.

"Before you were injured you mentioned that you draw, right? I was really hoping I could see your work!" Lucretia immedietly asked, skipping pleasantries completely. Hadrian leaned back in his seat, eyes wide and a bit panicked. He really didn't like showing off his work.

"Uhh….."

She pouted, giving him puppy eyes and pleading, "Please, Cousin?!" Hadrian sighed, and hefted himself up.

"Fine. Let me go grab it." He said relunctantly, making his way out of the commons and into his room. Lestrange was still in the room, slouched casually on his bed and tossing a few ball at the wall. His dark eyes caught right of Hadrian and he stopped, holding the ball firmly.

Hadrian ignored him, bending over to grab his thick, worn sketchbook from the bottom drawer of his nightstand. When he still up again Lestrange was suddenly behind him, snatching the book from his hands before Hadrian even knew what was going on. The shorter boy made a loud protest, but Lestrange was already flipping open to a random page, delighted at what he found.

"Give it back!" Hadrian demanded, but Lestrange just shot him an amused look. He smirked down at the white page, and Hadrian couldn't fathom what was so interesting.

"He's _cute_. Cedric…you put an awful lot of detail into his drawing, Black." Lestrange mused. Horror filled Hadrian's gut, and wide eyed he quickly summoned the sketchbook back, clutching it to his chest. But Lestrange wasn't done, swaggering up into his personal space.

"He's pretty, did you have a thing for him? I never thought that wholesome, boy-next-door look would do it for you," Lestrange reached down and twirled a lock of Hadrian's hair around his fingers, leaning even closer into Hadrian's space. Their chests bumped, and he could feel his breath on his face. "I thought you'd be all about the dangerous ones. You're so innocent looking, a boy like you needs someone stronger, someone who can really _pound_ you into-"

Hadrian hexed him, knocking him back a few feet and turning his skin a startling red. Satisfied with his work and ignoring the disbelieving look on Lestrange's face, Hadrian hurried out of the room and back to his friends, face flushed and angry.

  
Hermione was asking Lucretia about her plans for the day when an older boy came up to them, looking at Ron.

"Professor Slughorn would like to speak to you in his office." The boy said simply, looking bored. Ron frowned, and shrugged when Hermione sent him a questioning look. Ron followed the boy, passing Hadrian who was coming out of the hallway, pale skin pink and desperately holding his sketchbook against his chest.

Lucretia doesn't notice his state, just eagerly taking the sketchbook from him and opening it. Hadrian sat back down, and both of them looked over her shoulder at what she was looking at.

The first picture she sees is obviously old, from when Harry was younger. It's of 12 year old Hermione and Ron sitting in the grass outside of Hagrid's cabin, and Lucretia looked back up at Hermione in shock, obviously comparing the frazzled, unnatractive child in the drawing with the elegant woman in front of her. Hermione smiled ruefully, and Lucretia looked at where Hermione's buck teeth used to be.

"Puberty was kind to me." She explained, and Lucretia thankfully moved on. There were more pictures of Hermione and Ron, as well as a picture of the twins setting off a prank and a sloppy self portrait. It was the first time Hadrian had drawn himself, and he winced at the image of a skeletal, wild looking child. He flipped the page for her this time, ignoring her questioning look. The next image was of the basilisk, in all its elegant glory, slithering out of a pipe and into the bone filled water. Lucretia gasped in awe at the image, spending several moments looking at it. But eventually she moved on to more images of his friends, a colorful drawing of the Burrow, before coming across the image of Cedric Lestrange had found.

Cedric was sitting in the grass on the quidditch pitch, dressed in street clothes and tilting his face up to the sun. He's grinning, and Harry had spent weeks sketching every shadow and eyelash. The next image is of Fleur at the Yule Ball, spinning with her dress and her hair flowing around her. It's still, but the movement in the picture is obvious and something Hadrian was particularly proud of. Lucretia complemented it, and flipped to the next page. There were drawings of Draco and Blaise, both scowling, and vividly colored drawings of the dragons. A moving picture of Fawks dying and being reborn, McGonagall transforming into a cat, and an image of Sirius and Remus reading on the couch, holding hands.

His sketchbook held his life and soul, and while he had another filled with drawings he couldn't risk falling into others hands, the safe one still revealed the moments of his life. There was a rude caricature of Umbridge he hadn't finished, and then she turned the page and Hadrian's heart stopped.

The graveyard was shown, sketched ominously in black and white with heavy fog rolling across the page. Only the fog was enchanted to move, but as it did it revealed a glowing trophy laying broken on the ground. Lucretia frowned and flipped the page, finding the same graveyard looking even more like a horror scene. Harry took the book back before she could find the more disturbing ones, clearing his throat. Those drawings had happened after his nightmares last summer, and he had been too distressed to remember to draw them in the other one.

"What was that?" She asked quietly, looking at Hadrian in concern. Hermione is stiff and silent, watching Hadrian closely.

"Just a place I have nightmares about." Hadrian said, though the thickness of his voice fab him away. He forced a smile. "Can I draw you?"

The girl eagerly agreed, and for the next half an hour he quietly drew as the girls chatted about their classes. The pencil in his hand was familiar and comforting, the soft sounds of the lead against the page lulling him into a state of calm as his entire mind was taken up by the details and the scene in front of him. The common room was slowely filling, students waking and coming down to either go to breakfast or lounge in the chairs.

Camilla wandered over, wearing a modest pink dress and a white camilla in her hair. She walked past Hermione, apparently heading over to Lucretia, but Hermione noticed the glinting locket the girl always wore looked familiar. She reached out and grabbed it to get a better look, but something shot through her and suddenly she was stuck in a memory.

_Hermione was cornered in an abandoned classroom by a sneering Pansy Parkinson. Hermione's wild hair framed her terrified expression, her body pressed tightly against the wall and her knobby knees shaking. It's fourth year, and both girls just got out of class, still dressed in their uniforms but lacking robes. Pansy traced her wand down the side of Hermione's cheek, looking nasty._

_"Look at you, just a mudblood whore. You think you're so special, too of our class and ever so smart." Pansy spat, digging her wand in deep against Hermione's cheek and cackling when the girl flinched._

_"But I know your secret. You spread your legs for your grades, don't you? Lay down and take it from any teacher that asks. I bet you love it too. The smartest thing you've ever done was realize that as a filthy, dark skinned mudblood the only way to pretend to be close to as good as girls like me we to slut yourself out." Pansy continued, so close array spittle landed on Hermione's cheek. Pansy reached up and ripped Hermione's short open, jabbing her wand into the flesh right under her belly button._

_"How often do you let those two friends of yours use you as a cockwarmer, huh?" She asked conversationally, ignoring Hermione's trembling body and screams as she slowely carved into her flesh._

**_W H O R E_ **

_The next day Hermione watched Pansy take an absentminded bite out of a muffin that had appeared on her plate. Harry and Ron are arguing next to her, probably about Cedric, but her focus was completely on the Slytherin table. Everytime she breathed the scabbing on her stomach stretched and pulled under the bandages she had wrapped around them. It stung, and she was sure she'd be scarred for life. But as Pansy's eyes bugged and her face turned purple, satisfaction coiled in her stomach. Pansy clutched desperately at the table, drawing attention towards herself, and by the time she fell to the floor the entire hall was a loud commotion. Hermione could just barely see Pansy's lifeless eyes staring in horror, body limp and cooling, from her seat. When Dumbledore ordered them all back to their houses Hermione faked the fear and concern of everyone else, but her hand played with the empty vial in her pocket._

Hermione ripped her hand away from the locket, gasping and staring up at Camilla with a shocked and bloodless face. Camilla stared down at her, the look in her eyes confirming Hermione's suspicion that she had also seen the memory. But despite the fact that the woman just watched Hermione murder her grand-daughter, revealing both Hermione's time travelee status and her murder, Camilla just stared down into her eyes quietly.

"Are you alright?" Hadrian asked, pencil paused in the air. Camilla looked at him, dazed but mustering a smile.

"Fine. It seems my locket shocked her, no harm done." Camilla replied easily, though both Black's could hear the tremor in her voice.

* * *

 

  
The hall was a thrum of chatter, laughter and shouts echoing around the Great Hall. Giant pumpkins grinned and shrieked near the walls, and paper bats swooped around students heads. Hadrian grabbed a toffee off of Adney's plate, grinning charmingly when the boy made a noise of protest.

Walburga, Adney, Hermione, and him were discussing the History of Magic class, Adney suggesting actual History books to read during Binns's drolling. Ron and Belinda argued about Quidditch through full mouths near them, their argument passionate and heading toward violent. Lucretia and Camilla are leaned close, giggling about their recent letters from their families while making goo-goo eyes at eachother.

Headmaster Dippet stood, drawing a hush over the students everyone looking up at the wrinkled, widened wizard.

"Tonight we celebrate the blessed night of Samhain, a night of death and new beginnings for us all. Magic is high tonight and the veil is thin, I hope all of you take time tonight to honor the dead and to let go of the past to make room for the future. Enjoy your feast, and a happy new year." The Headmaster said, clasping his hands together and looking over all of them solemly. He smiled, for Samhain was still a night of celebration despite it's mournful meanings.

Everyone went back to their meals, but Isadora leaned into the group, tapping her sharp nails against the table. Her fake lashes fluttered, the spiderweb designs she had drawn on her face shimmering with dew.

"You know, Jeremy Longbottom has been loudly proclaiming to anyone who will listen that Samhain is a dark, evil celebration full of dark magic. He says that the muggle Halloween is much better and should replace it." Isadora gossiped, a hand coming up to fiddle with her black lace choker.

Walburga scoffed, rolling her eyes, and a few of the others expressed their distaste as well.

"Just another tradition the light are trying to wipe out. Soon enough we'll just be muggles, forgetting we even have magic at all." Adney said bitterly.

"Samhain is a magical celebration! It's tied to our magics and out beliefs, unlike a muggle celebration that not only commercialized fake magic but stems directly from the same people that demonized us and burned us at the stake!" Walburga agreed, bidding as she stabbed a noodle on her plate.

"Why should we change out holidays away from not only out traditions but away from our magic itself? These thoughts of good and evil that are tainting our society come directly from uneducated muggleborns who come into our world only knowing the closed-minded ideas from the Muggle world." Hadrian pointed out, drawing everyone's attention towards him.

Lucretia frowned. "Are you suggesting we don't allow muggleborn into the wizarding world?"

Hadrian shook his head. "Not at all. I'm suggesting we actually teach them, explain and integrate them into our culture and beliefs in a way that benefits us all."

The group around him stared at him in various states of shock and thought. The discussion is ended however when the hall started to empty. Before they could leave, Hadrian caught Lucretia, Adney, and Walburga.

"Meet us on the 7th floor near the tapestry at 2:30 tonight. Don't get caught." He told them quietly, before merging into the crowd.

* * *

 

 

Hadrian sat on his unmade bed, bare feet curling into his blankets and back pressed up against his headboard. His charmwork had been undone, and he sat on his perfectly normal looking bed with his large sketchbook in his lap. He had charcoal on his fingers and a streak smeared on his jaw, the image of Lucretia sitting on the chair and laughing started on the page. Rosier and Lestrange were playing a magic card game on Lestrange's bed, both ready for bed and cursing up a storm. Riddle sat in his own bed, homework laid out in front of him as he wrote an essay, still fully dressed. Glancing over once again though, he noticed the black leather cover in his hands. Oh, he was writing in his diary. Just the sight of it sent pain shooting through Hadrian.

Riddle glanced up at Hadrian, looking irritated. He slammed his diary shut scowling, but the expression smoothed into bland disinterested when his gaze fell down to Hadrian's sketchbook.

"What are you doing?" Riddle asked, drawing the attention of Rosier and Lestrange, who paused in their game.

"I'm writing out my plans to summon the muggle Satan, I wanted to see if the rumors that it's actually you are true." Hadrian replied, just as bland though irritation spiked in him. Riddle had a way of making him want to shove a knife through his stupidly handsome face.

Rosier let out a quiet chuckle, covering his mouth with his cards even though Riddle's face once again crumpled into a scowl. Lestrange however lit up.

"Is that your sketchbook? Are you drawing us?!" He asked delighted. Lestrange leaned forward on his bed, as if to peer at the drawing.

Hadrian snorted. "I only draw attractive people."

Lestrange made an offended gasp, dramatically pressing his hand to his chest over his tanktop, and jerking back as if he'd been shot. Then he seemed to get an idea, slowely smirking. This couldn't be good.

"Oh. Are you drawing Cedric again?"

Hadrian glared, ignoring the dark twisting in his chest. Cedric was too fresh to deal with this. "Fuck off, Lestrange."

He didn't notice Riddle perking up, avidly listening to the conversation now. Lestrange crowed out a laugh, falling back onto the bed ignoring the disgruntled look Rosier shot him as I moved out of the way. Lestrange states at Hadrian from his position, hair falling over his face and looking positively joyful.

"You are, aren't you? You're drawing your little boyfriend! Can I see, or is it scandalous?!"

Hadrain refrained from cursing Lestrange bloody, an intestinal knitting curse on the top of his tongue. Instead he slammed his curtains shit without a word. He could hear Lestrange laughing and cast a silencing spell, firmly ignoring the ache of loss in his chest and the flicker of a lifeless body behind his eyes.

* * *

 

At 2:27am, the trio stood silently by the tapestry. Ron was vibrating with excitement, and Hermione kept fingering the bag at her side, distracted. There was no one nearby, and the torches were few and far between, casting deep shadows over the stone passages. Hadrian leaned against the wall,

"The best part of being back now is Sluggy only makes us write a sheet of parchment once a month, compared to 4 sheets every night." Ron commented, picking at the ink on his fingers. Hermione looked ready to argue, but in the end begrudingly agreed.

"Snape knew options though, Slughorn's a fool, and half the class is failing because of it." Hadrian commented, though defending Snape made him feel disgusted. Footsteps echoed down the silent castle then, causing all three to snap their gazes up to the four teens aproaching. The only one who didn't look nervous was Cygnus, and Hadrian briefly worried that tonight would scar then irreparably. He shook that off, and stood tall, slipping into leader mode.

"Before we start, I need to inform you that I am leading the ceremony tonight. Do any of you have a problem with that?" He inquired. There were a few shaken heads, so they proceeded.

Hermione casted a quick cleaning charm over all of them, though the group was distracted by Ron, pacing up and down the corridor to summon the room. When the heavy wood door appeared, the group was visibly amazed.

"Where did that door come from? How did you know if was here, your only been her for a few weeks! Is it-" Adney rambled, looking excited and apprehensive. Hadrian ignored him and ushered them inside.

As the door closed behind them, the group was thrown into complete darkness, broken only when Hermione casted a lumos. The week light only barely lit up the bare stone room, but at uttered another spell and tossed the ball of light up, the light detatching from her wand and forming a larger, brighter ball near the ceiling.

"Please take off your shoes, socks, accesories, and anything that isn't your clothes and your wand. Please." Hadrian ordered them, his own feet here and his clothes simple fabric. Behind him, Ron and Hermione were taking things out of a small bag, setting them up. Rob lifted a struggling deer out of the bag, easily restraining it and moving it to the center of the room, tying it up with silver chains. Adney paled, and Hadrian smirked.

Hermione was setting up silver, purple, orange, and yellow candles up in two circles, one around the frantic deer and a larger one around that one. Hadrian led the group inside the largest circle, gently moving them around as he pleased. A circle of salt is poured directly outside of the largest circle, and then Hermione joined them inside. A wave of Hadrian's hand has the candles lighting up, the flickering flames signaling Hermione to cancel her lumos. Cast in an eery glow, they began.

Hadrian lowly started chanting in latin, letting the power of the incantation wash over him like a warm bath. As he invoked Botus, Ron harshly sliced the deer's throat, splattering himself and the area around where he was kneeling in blood. Ron just grinned, and moved the head to pour the blood into a stone bowl underneath. Hadrian ignored it, continuing chanting as he slowly walked around the circle of people, dipping his fingers into a smaller stone bowl, filled with cederwood oil, and brushing the oil across the very tops of everyone's forehead. Hermione shivered under his fingers, looking electric in the lights. She was already lightly sweating, and Hadrian gave her a fond smile.

Ron took the bowl filled with blood, leaving the corpse tied up, and began painsakingly painting runes at people's feet. Harry had moved on to dotting mugwort in the center of everyone's forehead, where their third eye lied. He stepped over Ron, who was smearing a rune for year at Cygnus's feet. Hadrian, finished with the mugwort, set the bowl aside and picked up the next one, calmly asking, "Please lift your shirts up, to your ribcage."

Lucretia flushed and Walburga opened her mouth to protest, look in indignant, when Cygnus shut them up with a sharp look. Only Hadrian could speak right now. Everyone, including Ron who paused in his painting, lifted their shirts so Hadrian could brush a mix of sandalwood and myrrh across their diaphrames. His chanting never breaks. He noticed Ron was finishing up the rune for future in front of his empty spot, completing the circle. Year, knowledge, vision, power, worship, future, memory.

"Every one please sit in from of your runes. Do not smear them, blow out any of the candles, or mess with the salt line." Hadrian intoned, setting down his last bowl and moving to his spot. Ron scurried over to his own empty place and sat, knowing that being caught standing when the visions started was a surefire way to get a concussion.

Hadrian's chanting intensified, echoing omuniously in the bare room, and all of them are violently thrown into visions.

Images and scenes flashed before Hadrian's eyes. A large, beautiful basilisk slythering through the chamber, stacks of falling apart books weakened and yellowed with age in front of a portrait of a man, one he doesn't recognise. He saw himself whirling across a crowded ballroom with a man in a mask, a beautiful girl with dark brown hair waving at him from down a hall, calling out his name and grinning, Riddle's dark eyes staring into his intensely, a large younger year gazing up at him from under scraggly brown hair, looking at him like he's hung the moon and Hadrian protects him. Camilla, twitching violently on the ground, Draco's hatefilled face with tear marks, Riddle, tracing his scar with wonder in his eyes, Riddle with his hand around his throat hissing at him in rage as he presses him deeply into a wall.

Hermione, Ron, Walburga, Lucretia, the beautiful girl, Adney, and Camilla standing in front of him. They slowely fall to their knees to kneel. A familiar looking couple with dark hair and deep laugh lines having dinner with him in an unfamiliar house.

Coming too, Hadrian gasped out a pained breath, head aching and body clenched tight. The world span around him, and his mind races with the vague information.

"It's never worked so well before." He whispered, looking into the glazed and dazed eyes of the trend in front of him.


	13. Green and Blacks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am very sorry for the wait, I suddenly lost my motivation to write. I can't promise it wont happen again, just know I will eventually update and it shouldn't be more than a few months of inactivity.

Hadrian ducked into the third floor girls bathroom, taking care to check around for witnesses now that Moaning Myrtle wasn't around to cause girls to avoid it. He cast a small ward, something that would cause those who wanted to enter to suddenly change their minds.

After the faint glow of the ward faded, he turned around to face the unchanged bathroom. The circle of sinks in the middle were well cared for, the mirrors and faucets gleaming and the stone free from coats of dust. He traced a finger over the lip of the sinks, slowely walking over to the now familiar one. The snake carving brought a smile to his face, memories of fumbled learning and childish games coming to his mind.

" _Open_." He whispered, stepping back as the sink moved and sunk into a long tunnel. He barely hesitated, stepping over and allowing gravity to send him shooting down the tunnel, calling a quick " _Close!_ " As he went.

Hitting the bottom was met with a sickening crunch of snapping bones and echos of dripping water. His robes were coated in slime and dust, a disgusting mixture that would have made him gag if he wasn't who he was. Instead he waved his wand, casting a thorough cleaning spell that made his skin tingle and his robes flutter. He pressed his glasses further up his face and gazed around.

The Chamber looked nearly identical to when he first found it, covered in grime and bones, snake skin and rot. The floor was just as flooded, dark depths surrounding bits of dry stone. He took a step deeper into the chamber, hearing his footstep echo hollowly. Seeing it like this, well it brought much different memories to mind.

 

_Tom Riddle, in all his semi-translucent glory, pointed Harry's wand unwaveringly at him. Harry looked afraid and betrayed, mind racing with the knowledge that his friend, the only person he felt understand him, was only using him. Ginny laid like a corpse on the ground behind him, skin colorless and hair like waves of blood where they splayed around her. She was dying, and Harry couldn't figure out why that didn't upset him._

_Tom stalked forward, his face earnest and handsome even as he kept the wand trained on him. Harry stumbled back, but Tom reached out and grabbed his forearm to steady him. Harry gazed up at him, wide eyed and young._

_"Are you going to fight me, Harry?" Tom asked, voice deceptively quiet._

_Harry's voice shook. "I will if I have to." But he didn't know if he could. He spent nights pouring his heart out to Tom, and the idea of harming him, of going against him..it didn't feel right._

_"Why do you do this? Why do you continuously fight for the light side when your heart longs for the dark? Why do you waste all this potential you have for a man who doesn't care about you? Dumbledore doesn't care about you at all, Harry, he only sees you as a means to the end, a sacrificial chess piece!" Tom ranted, his smooth voice quickly becoming louder and passionate as he drew Harry closer almost unconciously. Harry gasped in surprise, breaking Tom's anger. Tom gazed down into the teary eyes of a twelve year old, who's malnourished body trembled with an unknown emotion._

_Tom relaxed, grip gentling as he smiled. "Join me instead, think of all you could be at my side! You could be so much more than this puppet, you will be powerful and happy! You'll want nothing for the rest of your life, you'll be free to be yourself. Join me, and the options are limitless." He insisted, bright and sincere. Harry wavered, though his heart screamed to go with his friend. He'd noticed how wrong everything was around him, noticed how he was treated. He wanted to make his own choices._

_But the small girl behind him was barely breathing, looking like a puppet who's strings had been cut and Harry knew she was minutes from death. And while he still had a worring feeling of detatchment at the thought, his brain knew that her death would not be good for them._

_"I will, I'll join you Tom. I promise. But not like this. Killing Ginny will only make Dumbledore watch me closer, and I have to keep up appearences. Ginny dying will make Ron hate me, and if I lose my friends I'll have nobody!" Harry pleaded, grabbing onto the hand Tom gripped him with. Tom seemed to almost pout._

_"You'll have me."_

_Harry gave him a small smile, liking the childish way Tom seemed to act when he didn't get his way. "Yeah, but aren't I more useful without the lights suspicion." He insisted. "If you let her go and go back into the diary I'll write you everyday. We'll find another way."_

 

Ominous hissing snapped him back, heart hammering from the vivid memory of when it all started. Hadrian firmly shut his eyes, not keen on dying down here.

" _Slytherin's great basilisk, my name is Hadrian Black and I have come to speak to you. If you will, can you please shut your inner lids so we may speak face to face?_ " He called out politely, aware that even if he couldn't be killed by her gaze she still had a very sharp set of fangs. There was the sound of the basilisk dragging across the flooded floor, before a curious voice replied.

" _You may open your eyes, human, you are safe from harm._ "

The basilisk was a gorgeous creature with opulent green scales that glistened in the torchlight that automatically lit up. Hadrian took a sharp breath, able to appreciate how amazing she was now that he we older…and not afraid for his life.

Intelligent yellow eyes peered into his, slitted pupils following his every move. Her tongue flickered steadily and her head wavers from side to side. Then, she spoke.

" _It has been centuries since I've been visited. I have only awakened recently, you must be the Heir that awoke me._ " She hissed curiously, body inching forwards as if he was fascinating.

He smiled crookedly, " _What's your name?_ " He asked, avoiding answering her last statement.

She perked up, her tongue flicking a little faster and tail flicking happily. " _Kundalini, Master. What do you require me to do?_ " He wondered how long it's been since anyone asked her name, with a reaction like that.

" _Just Hadrian is fine. Are you hungry?_ "

The question seemed to baffle her. " _Very. I haven't eaten more than small mice in a century._ "

Hadrian smiled larger, walking up closer to her. " _I have a proposition. I will repair your chamber, clean it, and release you to feed in the forest nearby. However you must not harm any students or teachers, you must stay underground, and you must not expose yourself._ " The offer was practiced and checked by Hermione for holes, so Hadrian was fairly confident it was sturdy.

" _Of course! You are very kind, Harry._ " Kunalindi agreed happily, allowing Hadrian to come even closer and run a hand softly across her scales. They were smooth, though lighly dirty due to the state of the Chambers.

He opened the exit to the forest, but before he slid through he stopped her.

She tilted her head at him, and he quickly spoke. " _I will be back with friends to start the rest of the deal, but please refrain from mentioning me to anyone else who comes down here. I know it sounds odd, but I need you to promise me that my ability to speak to you and my visits remain a secret. Understood?_ " He said seriously, staring into her eyes. She was quick to agree, and then she was gone.

 

* * *

 

 

The wind whipped frantically around them, picking up hair and scarves all through the stands. Rowdy cheers and peeling laughter came from all sides, penetrating Walburga's silencing charm.

Ron sat casually on the bleachers, legs splayed and Slytherin scarf undone around his neck. Walburga sat primly next to him, looking bored and unimpressed. Ron grinned at her as he, once again, attempted to wheedle information from her.

"C'mon! What did you see last week? Hadrian only said we didn't have to share, not that we couldn't!" He insisted. Walburga looked at him from the corner of her eye, fiddling with the gold omnoculars in her lap.

"He said we shouldn't share if someone knowing could impact the future. I don't know if anything I saw can do that, so I am not speaking." She replied. Hadrian turned away from the game and looked back at them, glancing between them neutrally.

"Is he bothering you, cousin?" He asked her, even though that were fully aware he had heard the entire conversation. Walburga smiled at him, while Ron squawked in indignation.

"Not yet, Cousin. I'll inform you when." She replied, mirth twinkling in her dark eyes.

Ron scowled, crossing his arms. "I don't know why you constantly do that 'cousin' thing. We get it, you're related."

Hadrian chuckled. "Because it's fun. It's nice to have some family."

Ron tensed at that, and Walburga sucked in a sharp breath, eyes going soft. Hadrian realized both how pitiful he sounded and that Ron didn't have anyone left.

"Oh, Hadrian-" Walburga started, but he cut her off, twisting to fully look at Ron.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking-"

But Ron cut him off, smiling fakely. " 's fine. Anyway, Wally, you sure you won't tell me about your visions???" He switched easily back into a carefree teen, leaning into Walburga, but Hadrian saw the tightness in his form that wasn't there before.

She wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Do not ever call me that again."

Their conversation was ubruptly interupted by a girl walking over to them, waving. She was slight, with golden hair up in victory rolls and her fair skin pinkened by the rough weather. The rowdy crowd in the stands, though far more composed than the Hufflepuffs and the Gryffindors, gave her a bit of trouble reaching them.

However she eventually managed to sit down, smiling and out of breath. Walaburga seemed delighted to see her.

"Regina, a pleasure! It's been too long since we last spent time together!" She greeted, reaching forward to grasp Regina's hands. Hadrian was surprised at the familiarity behind the movement, considering he'd never met the girl.

Regina smiled, a small one, and shifted on the bench. Her voice was soft when she greeted her back. "Hello, Walburga. I'm sorry for the distance, I've been getting to know my betrothed." She explained.

Walburga's face twisted into something ugly for a moment, Hadrian seemed to be the only one who caught it. But the expression smoothed out almost quicker than it came, and she was smiling brightly. The girls chittered for a while, Ron and Hadrian quietly watching the game.

Regina seemed to be the opposite of Walburga, soft spoken and polite, not hiding any sharp edges or power. He didn't even know how she got into Slytherin, honestly. Though, he _was_ more focused on the game than the girls, an itch to fly crawling up inside him. It was strange, being on this side of the stands, instead of fighting other houses and the elements to win. Quidditch didn't fit into their plan, but perhaps…

Orion Black, one of the Slytherin chasers, flew past them. He was followed quickly by Cygnus, another chaser, and Hadrian realized he knew nearly nothing about his cousin. He'd never been introduced to Orion, never seen any of the Black's interact with him. He seemed to be part of the Knights, but it was odd his family seemed to completely cut him off.

"That's Orion, right? Our cousin? I haven't met him yet." Hadrian commented off-hand, closely watching Walburga for a reaction. Sure enough, she stiffened, turning to look at him in surprise. Her lips tightened into a thin line, and she nodded sharply.

"What is he like?" He pried further.

She seemed to take a moment to compose herself. "Orion is friendly, loud. He's fun-loving and adventurous. He's naive." She listed, detatched and akward as if she was wracking her brain for descriptions. She noticed his look, and sighed quietly.

"I haven't spoken to him since he was 14, when he fell into the wrong crowd."

It was obvious she was done with the conversation, but Hadrian wasn't done with his questions. He leaned closer to her, eager to know her view on Riddle. It was important to their plans, after all.

"Wrong crowd?" He asked, smoothing his expression into controlled curiousity. She didn't respond, face blank and tense, and Regina looked uncomfortable. Ron watched them all closely, game seemingly forgotten.

"What do you mean by that, cousin?" He pressed. Her lips pursed and her nose crinkled, obviously reluntant to answer. But she turned to him anyway.

"Orion follows Tom Riddle, I'm sure you're aware of him. Riddle seems very charming, he's a smooth talker for sure, but his views are..close minded and barbaric. He's bad news, and I am not fond of who Orion became after falling in with him." She replied, stiffly and faintly angry. Regina was nodding, a bit of spark in her eyes.

"Oh, Riddle is the _worst_ sort. He has everyone under this thrall, but a few of us know the truth. He's a fanatic and a bigot." Regina agreed, scowling. Hadrian soaked in the information and smoothly changed the subject, seeing how worked up the girls had become.

 

* * *

  
Hadrian hurried down the cold, stone hall, arms full of books and hair in a disarray. It was nearing curfew and he had lost track of time, only realizing when the librarian had to kick him out. He stumbled, dropping a few books to the gloom with an echoing thump. He groaned, squinting at the books grumpily and trying to figure out how to pick them back up without dropping the rest. He cursed himself for not bringing his book bag, and was about to levitate them up with wandless magic when they were suddenly scooped up by a pale hand.

It was Rosier, the teen having walked up behind him without Hadrian noticing. The boy grinned at him from under his swept up bangs, looking mischevious. He straightened up but didn't hand Hadrian the books back, holding them up above his reach as he read the titles.

" _The Art of Protection, Advanced Guide to Defense, The Practical Uses of Runes_.." He read off, swapping them around and ignoring Hadrian's glower. He didn't know Rosier very well, he blended well into the background. He wasn't loud and obnoxious like Lestrange, or as charming and moody as Riddle. He was handsome enough, with a good sense of humor and the mouth of a sailor, but he didn't stand out. However, when he directed another smile of gleaming white teeth and charm at him, it was hard to figure out how Hadrian overlooked him.

"Defense books, of course. I've noticed you're a natural in the class, it's very impressive. Professor Merrythought speaks very highly of you as well." He set the books back on the stack in his hands. Hadrian looked back up at him, surprised and suspicious at the compliments.

"You know, I'm just _terrible_ at Defense. Would you mind if I study with you sometime?" He asked, tilting his head and putting his hands in his pocket. It seems an innocent enough request, and Hadrian found himself agreeing before he even though about it.

"That sound fine. I'm busy tonight, by perhaps tomorrow?"

Rosier gave him a winning smile. "Works for me. See you, Black." He winked and turned around, walking away from where the common room is. Hadrian looked after him confused for a moment, before continuing on his way. Inside the common room he made a bee-line for Ron and Hermione, who were sitting near the back of the room on the stiff green couches.

Hermione looked cross, sitting primly and scowling at Ron's relaxed form. " _Really_ , it's not like I'm asking for perfect grades. But you need to focus more, you are failing classes and you're taking the bare minimum!" She scolded him.

Ron was desperately trying to distract her, pointing at a walking by first year. "What about them, what do you think they're favorite food is? I bet it's chocolate frogs, I can see a card sticking out of his pocket."

Hermione flicked a hex at him, looking done with his shit. Hadrian laughed, sitting down next to her and dropping his books by his feet. Ron opened his mouth to complain, but all that came out was garbled irish.

A second year girl nearby giggled into her hand with her friends, and Ron glared at Hermione, blissfully silent. Hadrian pulled out one of his books, _Repair, Warding, and Cleaning for Beginner's_ , and cracked it open. Hermione grabbed a book from the top of the stack as well, looking just as displeased as before.

She didn't open it, just waved it at Hadrian. "When do you expect us to have time for this? I don't have time for extra research, I'm spending all my time fixing my notes!" She asked angrily, looking frazzled. Hadrian was taken off guard, leaning back just to be safe. He knew how much books can hurt.

"What's wrong with your notes?" He asked, baffled.

She tossed the book back, running a hand through her hair. "They've randomly become riddled with false information I know I didn't write down! And some of them are just missing, _vanished_!" She seethed, gesturing violently with her hands. She's beyond angry, and Hadrian just hopes he's around when she finds the culprit. Watching Hermione in action is brilliant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think!


	14. They'll Never Understand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the wait, I recently started both work and Cheerleading so I literally don't have a day to myself. I did it to myself but my updates are going to suffer for a few months. So sorry!  
> Please leave feedback and kudos, It really does motivate me to write. Also, check out the art I drew of Hermione in the first ritual scene on my tumblr, stardust pens, and let me know if you'd like more.

Hermione's old fashioned shoes clack sharply against the stone floor, nearly in-sync with her companions.

 

She brushed her thick, curly curtain of hair over her shoulder, glancing at Camellia out of the corner of her eye. It was unnerving, watching the girl treat Hermione exactly the same, as if they hadn't both been tossed into a memory. A memory of her first murder, a memory that obviously showed her in Hogwarts as a Gryffindor despite the impossibility of it.

 

Camellia never spoke of it, and if it wasn't for those brief moments after the experience where Camellia stared into her eyes with shock and knowledge, Hermione might think she hadn't seen a thing.

 

"And it's just silly that Sluggy won't let me add blue bells to my simple healing potion, as I'm sure it will increase the potency and make it smell wonderful! He thinks I'm just a fanciful girl and completely dismisses the magical properties in flowers!" Camellia ranted, but cut off in surprise while glancing over Hermione's shoulder.

 

Before she could react, her hand was grabbed and she was spun around in place. She let out a noise of surprise, looking up into the face of a 5th year Slytherin….Nott she was pretty sure. He smiled down at her, and the wand she had hurried into her hand from her wrist holster was discreetly inched back up.

 

"Sorry, I just couldn't help myself, your skirt looked great for twirling." He winked, grinning at them. Camellia smiled at him, so Hermione pretended to bring down her own guard and allowed herself to tentatively trust him. 

 

"That's not proper at all, Nott! Just grabbing random ladies hands, ones you barely know at that!" She teased, turning up her nose at him.

 

Nott was one of Ron's roomates, but this was the first time she'd actually spoken to him. He seemed nice, and he was charming, in a plain sort of way. He wasn't exceedingly handsome, and he didn't stick out much, but she'll give him points for bravery after that stunt. Being that forward with a girl you don't know? Unthinkable in the Slytherin House.

 

"But Black! I do know you!" He acted offended. Hermione rolled her eyes, and he fell into step with them as they continued walking.

 

"Do you now?" She humored him.

 

"Of course! I know all about how your mind is just as beautiful as your beauty. And while all I have as a basis is class, I am impressed with your intelligence. Are you sure you aren't a Ravenclaw?" He grinned, winking. She pursed her lips.

 

" _ Intelligence without ambition is a bird without wings. _ "

 

His eyes lit up in recognition, and it startled her. What sort of Slytherin knew Salvador Dali that well? Actually, what sort of person would recognize that quote, period? (Besides her.)

 

"Ah, But _ happiness in intelligent people is the rarest thing I know. _ " He quoted back. "Are you happy, Black?" He taunted. She ignored the question, delighted at the easy response.

 

"Have you read any Hemmingway?"

 

"A few. I particularly enjoyed 'The Sun Rises', and 'The Old Man and the Sea'." He looked surprised by the sudden question. Hermione didn’t care, her boys were smart but Hadrian had very different taste in books than her and it had been a long time since she had a chance to discuss muggle books like this.

 

“I found ‘The Old Man and the Sea’ absolutely dull, but I did enjoy ‘The Sun Rises’.” Hermione commented. As they continued their conversation, Camilla grinned and drifted off without a sound.

 

* * *

  
  


“And we disagreed on the main idea of the book, but I don’t mind so much because the following discussion was thrilling-”

 

Ron groaned, dramatically loud and long. She shot him a dirty look from where she was concentrating on transfiguring a pile of rubble back into a stone snake.

 

“You’ve been talking about bloody Nott forever, ‘Mione! Give it a break!” He complained.

 

The three were in the Chamber, spending their Saturday starting the clean up and repairs as promised. Ron was vanishing bones and remains near Hermione, looking dishevelled and bored. Hadrian was working on the flooding, magicking away any water that wasn’t in the pools around the snakes and throwing a few purifying spells at the water in the pools. He didn’t appear to be paying attention at all, eyebrows furrowed and looking contemplative.

 

Hermione turned back to the crumbling statues and threw some powerful cleaning spells at the repaired one in front of her. “Whatever Ronald, it’s just nice to have an intellectual to discuss important literature, since Hadrian likes trashy fiction and _you can’t read_.” She shot back, and Hadrian just shrugged in agreement when Hermione sent a semi-apologetic glance his way. It was true.

 

“The last time we spent time together he borrowed my King Arthur book, said he wanted to enjoy something I enjoyed and that the legend sounded fairly interesting.” She continued, harshness melting into something else, softer. Hermione ran her fingertips over the mostly clean statue in front of her, a small smile on her face. “You know, I think it’s my favorite book. It isn’t my usual style, but I think my love for it comes from my pare...nts…”

 

She stumbled over the word, eyes widening a fraction and her smile dropping. She went completely silent, just staring at the snake. Hadrian looked up from the wet floor and glanced over at her, concerned. “Are you alright, ‘Mione?”

 

She nodded, and another moment of silence passed before she spoke. “I knew, theoretically, _I knew_ that everyone I used to know is gone, but to be faced with it really drives it in.” Hadrian started towards her, watching her poke the snake’s fang with intense concentration. Ron had also stopped what he had been doing, worried.

 

She noticed this and smiles sadly at him, turning away from the statue. “I’m not that upset, honestly, we weren’t very close. Barely spoke, you know. But,” She pauses, takes a breath, “Even though they were never sure what to do with me, even before my letter, they tried, you know?” She stared into Hadrian’s eyes at this, searching them for understanding. And he really did know.

 

He took her hand, smiling the way he only does with them. Open, emotional. “The sacrifice will be worth it.” He promised, comforting her. She nodded, more sure, and seems to steel herself a little more.

 

“I still miss Sirius and Remus, they were the only adults I’d ever call family, but they never really knew me. Not the real me, not what’s under the golden mask. So it’s easier, I suppose, to let them go.” Hadrian commented casually. He had thought about the life they left, about the people he would miss, before. But Sirius and Remus would never be able to look past their own experiences, expectations, and prejudices enough to be able to accept Hadrian as he truly was. They would love him, he was certain, but it wouldn’t be right to rip away their Harry Potter when they had already lost so much. It was better this way.

 

Ron had joined them, less somber, and slung an arm around Hermione’s shoulders. He shrugged, when they looked at him. “Suppose I really only miss the twins, they were the only ones who gave me any sort of positive attention. Half my families shit, the rest are too busy or oblivious to matter to me. But the twins, they were good people. Hard to regret being here though, when I know they would celebrate if they knew what had happened. Time Travel? _Ultimate_ prank to those two.” Ron grinned, fond, and the other two smiled back. They had all liked Fred and George.

 

“ _Hadrian, it’ss good to see you. You’ve brought two-leggers?_ ” Kundalini greeted them, sliding through the grimy water over to them as she returned from hunting.

 

Hadrian pulled back, tugging on his rolled up sleeves. He looked up at her, gesturing to his connected friends. Both seem to have forgotten they were touching, gazing up in awe at the gleaming scales and elegant angles of the basilisk. The three of them had created a spell third year using parselmagic books Hadrian had found in the Black Library and borrowed from Draco, allowing non parselmouths to understand the language as long as a parselmouth cast it. It came in handy now, and though the spell wasn’t yet Hadrian planned on attempting to weave it into the spellwork in the Chamber he would first have to alter the spell to have it only affect those who he keyed into it...and was that even possible? He shook his thoughts away, realizing he was getting distracted.

 

He smiled politely, “ _I have. Ron, Hermione, this is the great Kundalini, Slytherin’s basilisk. Kundalini, these are my friends Ron and Hermione. They’ve come to help with the repairs to the Chamber._ ” Harry introduced, Hermione and Ron dipping their heads in respect to the magnificent creature behind him.

 

“A pleasure.” Hermione greeted.

 

“Pleased to meet you.” Ron agreed.

 

Kundalini seemed pleased, and bobbed her head. She looked around the slowly changing surroundings, before turning back to Hadrian. “ _It already looks much nicer, I hope it can return to the greatness of my youth. Thank you, Speaker and friends. However, do remember not to overwork your magic._ ” She hissed, delighted but concerned at the amounts of recent magic she could taste.

 

Ron, on instinct likely, scratched the back of his neck and teasingly called up to her, “You’re such a mother!” He went still a moment later, realizing the disrespect he had just committed, but Kundalini seemed almost to laugh. She was amused by the comment, and rose higher, as if proud.

 

“ _Yes, I like that! I am your mother, and you are the hatchlings I have never been able to have!_ ” She declared. Hadrian gave her a soft smile, while the others burst into surprised giggles behind him. He stepped forward and stroked her scales, surprised and warmed by how kind and human-like Kundalini was. He never expected this, and mourned her death in his first life.

 

They returned to work as Kundalini curls up and watched and told them stories about her adventures over the centuries. They listened with rapt attention, awed by the fantastical tales. When he became annoyed with attempting to fix the flooding problem Hadrian moved on to shrinking and collecting the shed skins littering the stone. It was a lot of power to shove into a spell, and when he came upon one that was still mostly intact and resistant to his magic he called over to Ron to come and help him.

 

Ron abandoned his bone hunt and walked over through the sloshing water, however halfway there he slipped on a particularly slimey spot and ends up crashing to the ground with a large splash.

 

He sat back up, wet above his waist with water dripping from his matted hair, and Hermione let out a loud cackle, laughing at his dumbstruck expression. His lips tightened, and he cast a fire hex at her nonverbally. It was his turn to laugh as she squawked and jumped at the pain. Her face scrunched up in determination and annoyance, and Ron jumped up and ran, laughing all the way. Hermione cast a hex at him from behind, and suddenly the two were ducking and weaving and jumping around the room, a dirty duel. Hermione ducked behind Kundalini, screetching about vengence, and Ron lost all stealth by splashing through the water like a child. Kundalini watched with amusement, and Harry leaned his hip against a giant stone debris. 

 

“You’re both children!” He called out, his lips quirking despite his words. His fondness disappeared as his friends popped up from their crouched position and turned their wands on him, smirking. His wand slipped into his hand and they’re off, laughter bouncing off the walls and flashes of colored spells lighting up the Chamber.

 

* * *

  
  


Later that night, Hermione laid on her bed, swinging her feet as she carefully wrote an essay for Ancient Runes, her tongue peeking out as she concentrated. The lace of her nightgown tickled her wrists and her hair was swept up away from her face. Camellia danced by her bed to music crooning out of her magical record player like device, her own soft pink silk nightgown swirling around her as she giggled.

 

“Could you turn that racket down?” Isadora grumbled, cross-legged on her own bed and stitching together her handmaid vampire doll, but it was half hearted at best.

 

Camellia ignored her, swooning as the love song drifts to its completion. She sighed dreamily, “Love is so sweet, just _wonderful._ ” Her eyes suddenly lit up with mischief, looking over to the distracted Hermione.

 

“Hey, Hermione,” Hermione made a noise to show she’s listening, glancing up, “Has Quinn Nott proclaimed his intention to court you yet?”

 

Hermione dropped her quill, a barely visible blush warming her dark complexion and her lips opening in surprise. She pushes herself onto her knees quickly, grabbing her wand and vanishing the mess she made on her essay in a jerky, embarrassed movement. Camellia giggled, covering her mouth, and even Isadora lets out a laugh at her flustered roomate.

 

Hermione sat up straight, grabbing for her composure, raising her nose in the air primly. “I have no idea where you got this idea, but there are no feelings between us except mutual appreciation for literature.”

Hermione didn’t know how Camellia knew about the annoying blossoming feelings in her chest, but Camellia always knew more than she should. Honestly, why is she surprised?

 

“ _Suuuree_.” Camellia singsonged, a knowing look in her eyes. It irritated Hermione, and she deflected the questioning away from her.

 

“Well, who do you like, Lady Love?”

 

Hermione almost regretted what she said when Camellia’s smile shrunk into a sad little thing, but despite liking the girl Hermione was still the girl she was in 1990, and Hermione cared little for anyone other than her trio.

 

Camellia sat gently on her bed, a hand coming up to play with her locket. “I’m in love with Lucretia, of course. Have been for years.” Even with the sorrow lacing her words they were strong and confident, unashamed.

 

“And Lucretia loves me. But purebloods aren’t allowed to be bent because we have to pass on the bloodline.” She continued, voice never wavering even though her hand tightened, white around the locket she clutched in her palm.

 

Hermione frowned. “You are your own person and you can do as you wish! Purebloods fall in love just as everyone does, and no duty should force you to do something you don’t want!” She argued.

 

Isadora, who had long ago stopped sewing in order to listen, shook her head. Both teens stared at her like she was crazy, and Hermione’s face scrunched up in frustration. Her fists clenched and she wanted to hex the girls until they came to their senses.

 

“You can make your own choices! Hadrian is bent and you know what? He refuses to conform and enter a loveless marriage! He told our father to his face that he didn’t care if he was the only son, he would never marry a woman!” Hermione insists, nearly shouting. It was true, mostly, as he had told Sirius this his third year when he came out to him. Sirius had been shocked, as even in his rebellion he had never considered a pureblood being openly bent. But he had also been accepting.

 

Isadora and Camellia stared in shock, from the new information or her anger she wasn’t sure, but either way she took a deep breath and continued. “Hadrian, Ron, and I are are determined to change the wizarding world for the better, preserve our traditions but finally move us forward. This includes women’s rights, and bent rights. So you might as well start accepting your freedom now.”

 

Camellia clapped, cheering at her speech. She looked genuinely moved and her support knocked Isadora out of her stupor, and the goth girl gave Hermione a hopeful smile.

 

Camellia caught her eye and kept it, the knowledge and hope in her eye startling for a second. It was more than hope for a better future, it was the knowledge of a better future and the dawning hope of someone who had lost it. Camellia seemed to know what was ahead, and Hermione was reminded that as innocent and airheaded as she seemed. Camellia seemed to have a gift of sight. She needed more information.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact I wrote this in a few hours!! Hope you enjoy this lighthearted chapter, because things heat up soon. Any requests about non-trio and Tom characters you'd like to see more of? I know Harry and Tom haven't interacted much but it's not for much longer.


	15. Obsession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I start by saying thank you to all of you who continue to read my story despite months of absence, its you who keeps me going. This story is not and never will be abandoned, I love the story and where I am planning on taking it. I took on new responsibilities after the last update, and between Senior year, Cheerleading, a job, and a role in a play, I haven't had the time to sit and write.  
> Updates for all of my works should pick back up now that I've gotten in the swing of things, and again I appreciate your continued readership.

Hadrian scratched his ankle, the grass beneath him hard and itchy due to the time of the year. Wind bit his ears and cheeks and fluttered the pages of the textbook in his lap. He sat near the lake with Rosier, both boys sitting on the ground with textbooks and parchments. Few other students were outside now that it was getting cold outside, but neither Hadrian or Rosier seemed to mind.

"Really, Black, it was impressive. Some of the best spellwork Hogwarts has seen in a long time." Rosier leaned forward toward Hadrian, who was leaned casually against a tree and scratching diligently away at his essay. Hadrian doesn't even look up, but his body tenses minutely. His hand itched for his wand. It wasn't a good day.

Rosier's brown curls were held tightly in place with a spell, unlike Hadrian's which was a mess of windblown strands, but even the put-together pureblood was flushed red from the cold. He was admittedly handsome like this, relaxed and smiling. It was suspicious how easy-going he was.

"It was nothing, you could do the same if you put enough work in." Hadrian blandly brushed off, dipping his quill in his ink-pot. Rosier seemed to get closer, and when Hadrian gave in and looked up there was something lurking in his eyes.

"Well if it isn't natural ability then you must have had a good teacher. Who taught you?"

Quirrell, stuttering through a dull lesson on vampires. Flinching at the sound of spell casting. Quirrell, dying and manic, lunging at Hadrian and knocking his frail body into the cold stone floor, only to start screaming in shrieking agony as his flesh melts from his bones.

Lockheart, his book of lies and self-praising classes of reenactment and facts. Hiss pearly smile as he prattles on instead of teaching them spells. Lockheart's cold ruthlessness, the way his hand doesnt shake, his voice steady, as he tells two 12 year olds that he's going to kill them so he can be famous. No Voldemort or dark magic, simply murdering children because his books will sell better.

Lupin, laughing as he teaches them to fend off a bogart. Correcting wand movements and notes about every dark creature they can cover. Smiling proud as he patiently teaches Hadrian to cast a patronus. Lupin acting as a father, kind and warm, but never knowing who Hadrian is. His appearance too little to late in Hadrian's life.

Crouch, casting the unforgivables gleefully to a classroom of terrified children. Crouch, showing them real spells and how to defend themselves. His observant eyes following Hadrian around, suspicious and intrigued. Their genuine conversations. Crouch, frantic and reverent as he waxed poetry about the Dark Lord, his attempt on Hadrian's life.

Voldemort, disfigured and insane, forcing Hadrian to bow to him after slaughtering the only genuinely good person Hadrian had ever known. The bright blasts of spells as he chased him through crumbling gravestones, Hadrian weak and poisoned but blinded by the magic surrounding him and thrumming through his veins.

And Tom, lovingly describing the imperious curse as he stalked around Hadrian, magic dark and potent as he whispered in Hadrian's ear and held his hand steady. Tom, who was the best teacher he'd ever had, patient and articulate. The pride he took in Hadrian's first kill, the conversations about everything and nothing in the pitch black of night. Tom, who he'd grown attached to but ultimately had to face down to stop Voldemort. Tom, furiously stalking toward him as Hadrian stared him in the eye unflinchingly and cast fiendfire.

Hadrian scanned Rosier's face, finger's tightening briefly around his quill. His expression is bored, body forcibly relaxed, and he blinked slowly before answering calmly. "Mostly I learned through practice. Lot's of practice." He set his quill down. "Professor Merrythought is a great teacher, however."

Rosier slouched back, seeming to not have gotten what he wanted from Hadrian. He leaned back on his arms, scoffing at Hadrian's last comment. The conversation is over then, Rosier asking Hadrian to show him the spell from class again. He picked up his wand, setting aside his essay as pointed it at the other boy.

"Watch closely. _Torpentem_  ." He said slowly, rotating his wrist clockwise and jabbing it toward Rosier's left arm. The magic shot from his arm and Rosier fell to the ground, his left arm giving away as it became numb and useless. Rosier was silent but for a quiet sound as he impacted, which was slightly impressive. Hadrian waits for him to cast the counter spell, but decided it was a good time to fish for some information of his own.

"What do you know about Nott? You two know each other, right?"

Rosier grinned, his wand still tapping his arm to no avail. It was probably Hadrian's fault, his spells are hard to counter cast. "Checking up on your sister, are you?"

He was startled, and as slight as his reaction was, Rosier noticed. His eye's hardened. "Answer the question." Why did he look so gleeful?

"I'd watch him, if I were you. I think he's going to court your sister." His arm moved, and he shook it out, grinning wider as he looked up. "Ah! Got it. Let's continue then?"

 

* * *

 

Cygnus Black neatly cut up the sausage on his plate, still blinking sleep from his eyes this early on Saturday. His family surrounded him at the Slytherin table during their traditional family breakfast. A tradition in the Black family, they continued waking early to eat together every Saturday at school, finding some comfort that every Black in Europe was also eating right now. It was very early, few student's sitting at the tables, so their large cluster stood out. Only Orion was absent, a common occurrence since he affiliated himself with Riddle. Hadrian and Hermione were also missing, not yet informed. Cygnus had made the decision, aware that it may be painful to continue the tradition so soon after their parent's passing.

A great crested owl swooped above them, letters in its claws. Father's owl. Cygnus caught the letters as they were dropped and pulled the sleek black ribbon that tied them all together. Walburga and Lucretia had stopped talking at the bird's arrival, Alphard looking up from breakfast as well. Cygnus passed them the letter's addressed to them and split his open with a clean knife on the table. He pulled the parchment from its envelope and began to read it. Everyone waited patiently, in case there was family related news inside his, as he was the heir.

Cygnus skimmed the pleasantries and inquiry's, searching for an answer to the question he had asked in a previous letter.

 

_As for Hadrian Black, I have considered your request and would be pleased if the twins would join us for the Yule festivities. Their parent's passing is a great tragedy, and they belong with family. I also intend to finally size them up, as i haven't seen either of them for so long my memories have become hazy. From your description they sound like fine purebloods, I am eager to see if this is true or purely exaggeration. Inform them of the invitation and respond with their answers as soon as possible, your mother is finishing up the Yule Ball invitations and would be displeased telling others they are coming if they will not._

Cygnus smiled, folding up the letter to continue reading later. He turned to his cousins and sister, watching them wait silently. "Hadrian and Hermione will be joining us at the Estate over yuletide break. They've been invited, at least."

The girls became noticeably excited, perking up in their seats, and he fondly thought of how close the twin's had become to the women of the Black family. 

"How wonderful, I'm sure Mother and Father are looking forward to meeting them. And it's their first Yule Ball, how exciting!" Walburga hummed, scooping up a spoonful of baked beans. Lucretia pouted, however, seeming as if a realization came about her.

"How come they're staying with you, instead of at my home? I want to spend time with Hadrian and Hermione!" Lucretia complained.

"Do you really wish to spend two weeks with Hadrian and Riddle under the same roof?" Walburga points out. That's right, Riddle had spent the break last year with Orion, Cygnus had nearly forgot he was staying there this year as well. 

"They share a room, and they seem perfectly fine!" Lucretia argued, but she seemed as if she saw her point and was only arguing for argument's sake. He considered scolding her for her unladylike behavior, but decided to let this one slide. No one was around to witness it at the moment. 

Camellia floated up to them, a pink camellia weaved into her updo, the same color as her cashmere sweater. Her eyes were glazed and her movements dreamlike. Some days Camellia seemed fully present and aware, but others, like today, she seemed trapped in a trance.

"After Yule, everything will start." She said cheerfully, grinning but looking straight through them. She twirls around, her full skirts swaying, and walks away. The family watched her leave, but Cygnus's mind was elsewhere, his vision from Samhain plaguing him..

_He kneeled reverently on the ground, more kneeling around him. Hadrian Black stood before them, dressed in deep green dueling robes, falling like liquid they shimmer nearly black. Hadrian looked dark and dangerous, eyes glowing with terrifying power. But Cygnus was not afraid, only proud to serve such a wizard. Hadrian smiled, and the excitement was palpable._

Camellia was right, he could feel it in his bones. Yule would be the turning point.

 

* * *

 

The potion in front of Hermione and him bubbled happily, a sinister auburn that smelt of rain and grass. Hadrian stared into it, head propped up on his elbow and his brow furrowed unhappily. His hair curled around his nape, damp with sweat from the heat, and the sleeves of his uniform were rolled up, his robes folded neatly on top of his things. Hermione was shining with a sheen of sweat, thick hair straining against a hair tie at the the top of her head. She was also talking to him.

"You and I both know that refusing the invitation would be suspicious, not to mention rude." She insisted, gutting a durumodio beetle at her station. Durumodio's were a magical insect that fed on the moonlight, also known as a Moon Spirit Beetle. They were the prettiest bug Hadrian had ever seen, with a sleek, glittery shell that glowed after feeding, or when the shell was exposed to a large amount of moonlight. They also bled a lot, pale blue coating Hermione's dark fingers.

"I don't feel like socializing with empty headed people all break, 'Mione. I'd much rather stay and enjoy the quiet." He said, grumpily. Anyway, they had plans to plot and continue. He couldn't be bothered with stuffy old people with expectations of him, he had had enough of those for a life time.

Hermione glowered at him, removing the shell and tossing the rest of the bug in the pot. It turned a soft lavender and Hermione turned the flames up even more. This potion brewed at an incredibly hot temperature, and it wasn't helping Hadrian's bad mood. However, he relented at the look in his sister's eyes.

"It will be a good opportunity to further a few plans we have in progress." He agreed. He turned in his chair to where Yaxley and Ron were bent over their own potion, which was a darker purple. The flames were too low. 

"Ron, we've been invited to spend the yuletide with the Black's, and have decided to accept. We won't be able to spend it with you this year, I'm afraid." Hadrian announced, feeling a bit guilty about leaving his best mate alone. Ron had always skipped plans to spend the hols with Hadrian, so it felt a bit like betrayal. Hermione had turned around as well, looking a tad concerned.

Ron, however, didn't look upset, but before he could reply Slughorn appeared in front of Hadrian and Hermione's cauldron. His round face was red and sweaty, his robes a bit damp. 

"Miss and Mr Black, just because your potion is doing well doesn't mean you get to slack off in my class!" He scolded them, but there was no bite in his words. "I hope you both have found a plus one for my Yule Party next Thursday, I hear the choices are getting slim." He reminded them jovially, and Hadrian smiled politely back up at him.

"Of course Professor, we wouldn't miss it." He responded. Slughorn looked pleased, and tottered off toward's Riddle's group. Hadrian's smile dropped, and he looked at Hermione.

"There's a Yule party??" He hissed, bad mood worsening. She gave him a flat look.

"Honestly, it's like you never listen. Everyone's been talking about it, and there were even invitation's sent out during breakfast."

He blinked at her. "I never got an invitation."

Ron laughed, "Yes you did, you shoved it in your bag without opening it. It's probably still in there."

Hadrian scowled. He hated yule dances, or any kind of party. His fingers twitched toward his wand, unsure of who he was angry at but calling for retribution all the same. They turned back around and continued working on their potion, but his mood didn't improve. His next twitch towards his wand was more obvious, and Hermione caught it. She laid a hand over his, wary, and he took a deep breath. 

"Are you alright? You're twitchy and your magic is leaking a little. You aren't usually in this bad a mood. Did something happen?" She whispered, concerned.

Something happened all right. Tom Riddle was getting on his last nerve. The boy was always watching him, dark eyes tracking his every movement. He couldn't concentrate, not when Riddle was looking at him so intensely, like Hadrian was the only thing that existed during those moments. Being the target of that focus was...confusing. He understood what Riddle was doing, analyzing him for strengths and weaknesses, taking him apart and finding what makes him tick. The same thing Hadrian would usually do back, if he didn't already understand him. If you can ever really understand Tom Riddle.

But the looks were stirring something inside of him, making it perk up in interest whenever he could feel his gaze. In their room, in class, during meals...the handsome teenager was everywhere. Seeping inside to places, places he would have given anything to have died in that fiendfire.

Even now, he knew if he looked over at his table that green would meet brown. It was frying his fight or flight response, making him twitchy and irritable. But Hermione didn't know much about Tom and his....acquaintanceship. So he just looked into her eyes, tired and worn thin, and replied, "I've had a bad day."

 

* * *

 

Tom sat, once again, in his temporary throne. The long wooden table stretched in front of him in the perpetually dusty room, his followers again silent and waiting. And once again, the meeting is about Hadrian Black. The boy was inhabiting his thoughts and attention, infuriating and impossible. He had to get to the bottom of him, before his plans fell down around Tom's head. Tom had always had a single minded focus, and he had never been able to control his obsessions. They threatened to swallow him whole.

"Any progress on the trio?" He asked, tap tap tapping against the arm of his chair. It was unnerving his followers, a temporary pleasure that soothed his irritation. 

"I have some, my Lord." Lestrange spoke up, looking entirely too pleased with himself. Tom gestured for him to continue.

"As I have mentioned to you, Black has a sketchbook. I managed to take it from him briefly, but I got some info from it while I had it. It's not his only one, according to the small 'Sketchbook #2' written in the cover. I was also able to open it to one of his images, one he seemed particularly sensitive about based on his reaction. It was titled 'Cedric', and was a drawing of a boy, older, sitting in the sun. Due to the amount of details and the way it was drawn the boy, Cedric, is obviously someone of importance to Black. Perhaps someone he was...romantically involved with." Lestrange looked gleeful at the amount he was able to share. Tom, however, Tom was far from pleased. Fury boiled within him, jaw tight and fingers clenching. Romantically involved? Ridiculous. Hadrian was his, Tom's to puzzle out and force to submit. Tom wasn't done with him, possessive over his power and mystery. The mere idea that anyone else could have claim over his obsession was infuriating.

"Is he any good at drawing?" Rosier asked quietly to Lestrange, looking curious. Lestrange nodded, starting to whisper back. Tom interrupted, in no mood for his follower's chit chat. 

"Avery, Nott." They snapped to attention. "Whats the status on the girl?"

Avery sat straighter, pale and jittery. "I have been sabotaging her notes, editing them through spells, vanishing them, mixing them up..., She is getting increasingly frustrated."

Nott spoke up, sending an unimpressed look at the blonde. "I've had more success. I've been talking to her, getting her to trust me. I now study with her, giving me the ability to distract, confuse, and misinform her. I've also edited a few of her essays while she wasn't looking." He smiled, and Tom would have hexed him for daring if it wasn't for his success. Instead he gave him a dark look, and the smile quickly dropped. Better.

"And Ronald? You share a room, correct?" Tom drawled.

Nott nodded. "He's fairly unremarkable, if a tad odd. He's close with the Yaxley scion, plays a truly ridiculous amount of chess, appears to be the stupid one of the group, and has a insanely warded trunk that from brief glimpses seems to hold an large section full of books. I've never seen him read." He paused. "Also, he has a strange habit of disappearing during the middle of the night. I've woken a few times to find no trace of him."

Mulling this over, Tom waited for anyone else to speak up. When there's only silence, he spoke. "In addition to any other orders, find out what you can from the girl's roommates. Dismissed."

His followers stood, exiting the classroom and beginning to quietly speak. A conversation between Rosier and Malfoy started up as they began to leave.

"-Black looks irresistible curled up in front of the fireplace in his sweaters and bedhead, such a shame someone as pretty as him might end up being our enemy."

"You should see him during defense, sweaty and powerful. It's really something else, his power, and it's quite attractive how that small body can destroy his opponents-"

The door closed behind them, and Tom grabbed his ink pot and hurled it across the room in his anger. How dare they talk that way about Tom's things? The disrespect, the audacity! Tom seethed in his throne, heart hammering and emotions twisting and turning inside him. He forced himself to take a calming breath, turning his mind to things that made more sense than this odd obsession. Such as Black's warded trunk and bed, which he still hadn't managed to break into. When would he possible have time?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The spell and beetle are made up by me, the spell essentially cuts off feeling and commands to limbs while the beetle enhances aspects of potions and the shells are used to make jewelry.  
> So, plot is going to pick up pretty quickly now, just trying to get in relationship filler to flesh out my characters more before I shove them into plot. Next chapter should have some real Tomarry interactions though! I should update relatively soon, however I have other stories to update first.  
> Please review, even just pointing out a part, quote, character, or descripion you liked is super motivating and lets me know I'm doing good!


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